


Mr. Argyle

by Blue_Stars_Above



Category: Original Work
Genre: Canon Trans Character, F/F, F/M, Fantasy, Gen, Gore, Kidnapping, M/M, Nonbinary Character, Original Fiction, Other, Science Fiction, Transphobia
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-22
Updated: 2020-01-19
Packaged: 2020-01-23 20:29:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 27
Words: 38,781
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18557284
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blue_Stars_Above/pseuds/Blue_Stars_Above
Summary: When Jordan, a teen down on their luck and in need of cash, responded to a vague ad, they didn't expect to be plunged into a world of monsters, alternate universes, impossible architecture, and more. Now, they are at the mansion of Mr. Argyle, a previously unknown nobleman who has mysterious intentions for our protagonist and the other respondees-- plans that aren't as benign as Jordan would hope.(This work is Not Rated and un-tagged because I don't want to spoil anything. If you have any concerns and want content warnings, feel free to message me!)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi there! I made an AO3 account because I'm writing this story as a novel and wanted to share it and get feedback from people. I already have a lot of chapters written but I'll be spreading them out so I don't run out of chapters to post. I also apologize in advance for the characters being different as the story progresses-- it took me a while to get into the story and really bring the characters to life, as well as the descriptions.

I bit into my apple, stepping up to the bulletin board. Advertisements from here to the next few cities were hastily tacked on by 5 every morning, and job hunting was what kept me going. I could never keep a job for more than a year, always ending up back here, my ill-worn shoes against the same old stones. The November winds harshly blew against my face.

I elbowed Dirty-Hair Sam, pointing to the crowded board. "Why're they swarming? Some Lady lookin' for a handmaiden?"

"Nah, but kinda close. This fancyman's put up an ad for an heiress.” Sam began laughing. "Needs someone to take his money, he's come to the right place!"

"Has he posted elsewhere?"

"Dunno. Lacy hasn’t said anything bout it, ’n’ she came from Kellsnee where ads’re posted at four.”

I paused, slipping my apple into a dusty pocket. "Sam, this doesn't sound right. Don't fancymen have cousins to pass money onto, if they don't have kids?"

Sam shrugged. "I'm not passing up that kinda money. Come take a look."

The two of us elbowed our way past chattering girls and the occasional older woman. I'd seen strange ads in my time, and occasionally they turned out to be weirdly-worded gold mines. Last winter I'd mistaken a career-making modeling job for human trafficking- I mean, who puts "come alone, at night, to this old church" without thinking it seems weird?

This ad was worded stranger than most, however. In white, scrawling text on a piece of black, burnt parchment paper read the ad:

 

FORTUNE AWAITS!

LOCAL ENTREPRENEUR AND CHARITABLE NOBLEMAN

WELCOMES MANY A YOUNG LADY

TO SATISFY HIS NEEDS.

COME, COME SUNDOWN ON THE SIXTEENTH'S EVE

TO ASBURY PARK, WHERE COACHES SHALL TAKE ALL

TO THE HOME OF MR. ARGYLE.

 

“Come, come sundown? Grammar, sir! Who even is this Mr....Argyle? Never heard of him."

Next to me, a gray-haired woman who bore a striking resemblance to One-Eyed Nina- though Nina had been missing for eighteen months- spoke up, voice swelling with pride.

"The face of a ruler, the face of a leader, the face of an owl-"

Her voice dropped to a horrified whisper. "The face of a wolf."

Sam and I stared. The woman walked away, never to be seen again.

"...a'ight. Another day in Sensiff."

"So you gonna go to Asbury, answer the call?" Sam questioned.

"Yeah, why not. I'll see you there, then. Hey, it never said anything on the ad about an heiress, just getting money-"

I'd turned to look at Sam, but she had vanished. Where she’d stood was only a puddle of rainwater, reflecting my dirty face.

\----

The fated night arrived quicker than expected. I stood by myself in Asbury Park, shivering in my thin jacket. Sam had seemingly changed her mind- she was nowhere to be seen. Women clustered together beneath the ancient maple trees, anxiously awaiting the carriages. They spoke only in whispers.

As one, we all turned our heads towards the pounding of hooves.

"There!" Someone cried out. "On the old dirt road!"

They rushed to the edge of the park, heads bobbing to catch a glimpse of our mysterious employer.

Leading half a dozen carriages, a pure black horse halted in front of the sea of women. The horse's breath clouded in the wintry air. In its saddle sat a middle-aged man, unusual by most standards. He stood over seven feet tall, with long black hair and cracking skin.

I leaned forwards, confused, while the crowd stepped back, horrified. The man's skin cracked not like a human's, but more akin to an egg. Jagged lines- almost fault lines- traveled down his face, branching off and disappearing under his high-necked coat.

The rider spoke in a crooked, croaking voice. "Hello. I am Tibius Aius, though you may refer to me as Sir Ius. I am here to retrieve all responding to Mr. Argyle's advertisement. You will be helped into the carriages, and taken to the estate."

The man began turning away, but paused. He scanned the crowd, silently counting each member of the audience.

"My, there are many of you. Too many. Hm. Any above the age of twenty-five, leave. Don't bother bluffing. You will be turned away."

About a dozen different women stomped away, cursing under their breath. Sir Ius continued.

"Any with venereal diseases or leprosy may leave as well- as shall runaways. We have...thirty of you remaining, yes? Good. You may board now. Five girls into each carriage."

Sir Ius glanced at some hidden object in his pocket while drivers began herding us into the fancy carriages. I ended up in the fourth, and recognized two of the four other girls sitting with me- Brown-Eyed Lina and Lina.

"Is this... _velour_?" marveled Lina, quietly stroking the seats.

"Actually it's velvet," piped up a brawny girl sitting across from us.

"What's the difference?" Brown-Eyed Lina muttered.

"Well, velvet is softer, y'know? Also, it's more expensive to make- this one, 'specially. It...it seems to be made from pure silk," grinned the girl, closely inspecting her seat.

"Meenah was a seamstress's apprentice. What she's saying is this carriage is worth more than any of us,” explained the fourth girl in the carriage. “My name’s Cara.”

The two seemed to be related, or at least from the same country. They shared a songlike accent and dark skin. Cara subconsciously leaned towards Meenah, as if they were close friends.

The carriage almost impalpably rocked forwards. Through the curtained windows, I could hear muffled hooves.

“Have we started moving?”

“Seems so, B-Li. Wonder where we’re going.”

“Open a window, please,” Meenah mumbled, nudging Cara. Meenah held her head in her hands.

“What’s up?” I said, staring at her.

“She gets carriage sick. Hopefully the fresh air’ll do her some good.” Cara leaned towards the window, but stopped.

Brown-Eyed Lina leaned forward. “Are they stuck?”

“Yeah… Dunno why. There’s something sap-like coating the edges.”

By now, Lina and I had moved towards the other window to see. A clear yellow goo had crusted it shut. The purple curtains were similarly being kept down, stopping us from looking outside.

“This…this is real weird, guys.” Lina’s voice was even higher than her usual shrill whine.

“Well, shit. Are they gonna steal our organs?”

“Jeez, you guys are pessimists!” Cara snapped at the three of us. Meenah moaned next to her.

Cara sat back, rubbing Meenah’s back. “Just… there’s no use speculating, ‘kay? Sit back and enjoy the velvet ‘till we get there.”

“Maybe we can open the door and leave?” Meenah weakly coughed. “It’s hard jumping outta a… a moving carriage, though.”

I tried the handle, but it remained firmly stuck. “They must’ve locked it from the outside. We can try yelling, but I doubt anyone’ll hear us over the horses.”

Next to me, the Linas sighed. Meenah clutched her hands over her mouth. I could barely hear B-Li whispering to herself, “Dear gods, please don’t let me die in a vomity carriage.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Decided to post a few more chapters before heading off to bed :3

It was late in the night- or perhaps early in the morning- when the carriage noticeably slowed. Only Cara and I were awake. I met her hazel eyes in the darkness. She seemed eager to see our destination, but frowned. 

The carriage stopped. Cara silently elbowed Meenah awake, and I turned to do the same with the Linas. 

"Wha-" I clapped my hand over B-Li's mouth. I don't know what she saw in my eyes- panic, fear- but it silenced her. 

Before we could awaken Lina, the lock on the door disengaged. We waited for an attendant, or perhaps Sir Ius, but the door stayed still.

Cara moved toward the door, hesitantly pushing it open. Moonlight silently illuminated the carriage. Trancelike, the four of us climbed out without a word.

There was a loud bang to snap us out of our spell. The horses loudly whinnied before rushing away, dragging the carriage with them. 

"Lina!" B-Li cried, running towards the road. She started coughing on the dust that'd been stirred up, and wheezed. The carriage rode down a turn and out of view.

My head swiveled around, examining our surroundings. We stood in a dense northern forest of pines and old oaks, coated in a patchy layer of frost and snow. It was thin enough to walk through, yet thick enough to soak our shoes.

"Where are we?"

B-Li deeply breathed in the cold air. "This is bullshit. He's just dumped us to die out here. Must be a sadist."

Meenah slowly shook her head, pointing to a boulder. "He's definitely a sadist."

Carved neatly into the rock was a set of instructions. Meenah slowly read them out. 

"The objective: arrive at Mr. Argyle's estate, 40 miles north.

The rules:

  1. You cannot use the road. You do not know which way to the estate, and if you are seen on the road you will be turned away.
  2. Only three of you will be allowed to arrive, or all shall be turned away. 
  3. If only two arrive, a special reward shall be given to both.
  4. If only one arrives, they will receive one hundred dollars, in addition to the special prize aforementioned.
  5. If you do not arrive by noon, you shall be turned away.
  6.  Any treatment towards each other is allowed. This includes actions normally deemed illegal."



Meenah trailed off at the end, most likely thinking of the implications. Murder wasn't off the table for 'eliminating' an extra member of our group.

“Well, seems we only have one person to eliminate, instead of two,” B-Li sighed. She leaned back against a tree, but shuddered at the feel of the snow. She bit her lip. “I wonder what they’ll do to Lina,” she muttered.

“It looks like an old engraving. I wonder how many girls have been here before,” Cara muttered.

“I think we should just go to the road. Who cares if we won’t get the money? I’d rather not die” I commented.

The others agreed- we’d move north when the road permitted, but otherwise follow its every turn. We trudged onto the road, and easily followed the tracks in the snow left by the carriage.

“With tracks like these, we could just skip off the road when the house is in view and say we’ve hiked the whole way,” laughed B-Li. 

Cara seemed startled by the laugh, but softened. A trace of a smile graced her face as she walked. We soon fell into a social mood despite our circumstances, taking advantage of the hours ahead of us.

“So how’d you two meet?” Meenah gestured at B-Li and me.

“Oh, we met last winter,” B-Li began. “We both got a job as extra hands in Lady Eirring’s household, caring for her daughter. She was bout ready to pop, so we were there in case anything happened, and to fetch craved food. We’d make jokes bout how her Ladyship had a pain in the ass for a child- every moment, ‘I need pickled cucumbers’ or ‘I need a massage.’”

I chuckled at the memory. “Yeah, she was a bit of a snob. I’ve seen girls half her age give birth in alleyways with only a stick and a rag.”

Cara covered her mouth. "Wait, you mean Lady Florina? I thought she went off to a fancy college of medicine near the Great Lakes."

B-Li lowered her voice, a smirk now evident. "Apparently she got knocked up. By some classmate, no doubt. When her mother heard, she went out there and brought Her Ladyship back home."

I nodded. "Lady Eirring tried to keep it hush-hush, but the scullery maid- you know, Louise? Louise Fick?- is quite chatty. So Florina's maid Dorothy told Louise, and Louise told everyone else in town."

Meenah whistled, wide-eyed. 

"What, you've never heard any juicy gossip? I thought you'd been a seamstress's apprentice- people love to gossip with their seamstress!" B-Li scoffed. 

"Well..." Meenah began.

"Out with it," she barked.

"Okay, okay! Do any of you know a Mrs. Robert Snow?"

I frowned. "Isn't Mr. Snow that strange salesman? The one always selling some new 'magic cure' every week? I didn't know he had a wife."

Meenah slowly nodded. "He does. Her name's Leta. Her husband may be a kook, but she's actually rather nice- she's a midwife when the time calls, and for most of the year she sells herbs and produce from her garden."

"Come now," B-LI interrupted. "How can those two live off herbs and miracle syrups?"

Cara shushed her, and Meenah continued. It seemed Cara had heard the story before.

"Yes, yes, well it seems Leta came from a well-off family. She had a small fortune, so the couple could afford a home in Westlee. Her husband would always ask about the money- you see, he wanted to pour the fortune into marketing his cures, advertising- but Leta kept the money stowed away. It took weeks of slow prodding for her to tell me."  

"Hold on." This time, it was I who stopped her. "I doubt she'd just tell you outright. This sounds a tad phony."

Meenah shushed me. "It was a riddle.  _ O'er the garden wall, under a stone. Three from the sun come morn. Watch for a green spot big as your thumb. Dig till morn has gone _ ."

"So...just dig under the stone third from east?"

"Yeah. Dunno why she said it like that. 'Course I went over to try and steal the money when I knew she was off to a church luncheon."

I shrugged.  _ Ya gotta do what ya gotta do.  _

"Wouldn't she know it'd been you, though?" B-Li protested. 

"Meh. Considering how easily she'd told me, I figured plenty of people knew, but hadn't gone for the same reasoning. Anyway, I sneaked into the garden round eleven, and you won't believe what I saw. As I dug, I kept upturning little white stones and fragments. Once I found a long, thin one- well, I figured they were bones."

"Oh hell... Only Mr. Snow would marry a murderess.”

“So, there I was, knee-deep in mud and bones, when I hear some- hey, what’s that?“ 

Meenah stopped, both in her tracks and in her story. She pointed ahead at the road. We all turned, and I could just barely make out a glinting in the distance. An object, maybe, or a carriage.

“I think-"

Meenah was silent again. I didn’t see why till she turned, a giant hole in her head. Blood leaked out and down her face, but there was no one left in her body to care as it collapsed on the road.

I screamed, and the three of us ran into the trees. We dashed madly, caring not for the brambles that tore at our clothes, but only that we fled death, and did so together. After an adrenaline-filled eternity, we slowed to a halt, all panting and wheezing. I was glad to see tears wetting the faces of the others, and not just mine.

“M-Meenah!” Cara sobbed loudly. 

I pulled her close, hushing her more due to panic than a desire to comfort. B-Li sank to her knees in the snow.

“She’s dead, she- who killed her? Who did it? We didn’t see anyone, there was no one-“ Cara babbled, her strong persona crumbling. 

“That glinting up ahead- must’ve been a gun. Men, waiting for us to be walkin’ out in the open. Thieves, murderers. Highwaymen.” B-Li mumbled, her voice higher than usual.

As I patted Cara’s back, I sent my reply over a muscled shoulder. “How’d they know we’d be there, though? Not many folk traveling these roads, it seems- ‘specially at night.” 

Cara paused, her head rising from my shoulder. She sniffled, eyes rimmed with red. “We were told not to go on the road- we were told we’d be turned away. Mr. Argyle and Sir Ius, they-they must’ve done this! They killed Meenah!”

I swallowed roughly. “They said we’d just be turned away.”

Cara shook her head, taking a few steps backwards. She scratched at her skin, her movements becoming more hurried with each word. “We broke the rules in a sadist’s game, Jordan! He was dishonest with us from the beginning, he took away Lina, he’s…”

B-Li held up a hand, breathing deeply. “We need to calm ourselves. Panicking will lead to death. We can walk home, surely?”

I laughed, my mood souring. “We rode for hours! We’re dozens of miles away by now. If we follow the road, we die. If we trek through the woods, we face wolves and the cold. Our only hope is to make it to Mr. Argyle’s estate.”

Cara hesitated. “Which way is north?”

I bent my head up towards the sky. Through what foliage remained on the trees I could spot the moon, hovering right over the horizon to my right. 

“If the moon sets there,” I began, pointing. “Then north is behind us. Shit. How long did we run?”

To my dismay, my two companions remained silent. I sighed. “Better get walkin’.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> here's the real meat of the story coming in :3

“The sun’s not yet at its peak. I think we have a bit under an hour.”

I rubbed my hands, my jog quickening a bit. Cara’s words brought no joy to me. We still had no sign that we were nearing the estate.

“Are you sure?” I panted out. 

“My best guess.”

Behind us, B-Li finally chimed in. “One of us... should run ahead. If there’s...still no sign of the house...they can run back and say so.”

Cara nodded. She looked between me and B-Li. “I’ll go. You two are slow.” 

Cara’s footsteps soon faded. There was the occasional soft crunch of snow or snap of a twig, but it may as well have been the wildlife. After what felt like twenty minutes, B-Li turned to me.

“Where is she? She should’ve come back.”

“Dunno. Maybe she found the estate and decided to abandon us.”

“Could very well be. I guess her absence is a gift then.”

I quickened my pace. “Come on. We gotta get there before noon.”

I ran, thinking at first of B-Li struggling behind me, but my caring thoughts soon vanished. Fuck her. I’m not gonna die out here with her. I need to get there. I need to eat, to drink, to survive.

I burst out of the trees into a field. A grandfather clock sat among the waist-high grass. I wheezed, regaining my breath, before striding forwards.

The clock was cracked with age. Dark brown oak, a plain face… The clock ticked closer to 11:59. I’d made it, but where was the estate? I walked behind the clock, but the edges of the field only morphed into the forest. No house waited. Was I in the wrong place?

There was a sudden gloved hand on my shoulder. I whirled about, pulling back my fist, but stopped. Sir Ius bent down, almost hunched over me due to his height. He put a finger to his lips and stepped away from me. He stared out at the treeline and I followed his gaze, waiting. The wind moved the leaves as the clock struck noon, loudly echoing.

He turned to me, his croaking voice grating against my ears. “You were the last. Your luck has kept you well. Come now- you will be fed and bathed at Mr. Argyle’s estate.” He took my hand in his as he fished around in his pocket. He pulled out a pocket watch, opening it up and pressing a knob on its side. The world suddenly drained of colors and I felt the breath leaving me. The trees broke into ashes and I thought I saw a human among the disintegrating reality. I couldn’t tell if it was due to the world disappearing or my lack of air, but the edges of my vision went black. My head pounded-

Just as it had happened, so it became undone. The world returned, but it was different. Where there had been only a field and a clock, there now stood a gigantic estate. My head seemed to spin and I leaned forward, vomiting onto a neatly-manicured lawn. 

Sir Ius sighed, and released my hand. I fell, tried to stand, and fell again. A pale hand, much smaller than my own, was offered. I took it gladly and pulled myself up, rubbing my mouth clean of filth. I roughly swallowed, wincing at the foul taste I would most certainly remember for many hours.

Where there had been only Sir Ius and myself, there now stood-- thirteen? Thirteen different girls. The hand that had helped me belonged to a youth, perhaps ten or eleven, with ginger braids that swayed with her movement. She grinned at me.

I was happier to see that I hadn’t been the only one to barf. Six or seven of the thirteen others were bent over puddles of muck. Geez, this is a disgusting scene.

Sir Ius stepped in front of us, standing at his full height. He pocketed that...device....and began to speak.

“Welcome. You have arrived at Mr. Argyle’s estate. You shall soon be taken to your rooms to be fed and bathed, but beforehand, those of you eligible must receive your prizes. Sort yourselves into the remnants of the groups you initially arrived in.”

The girls began shuffling around, heads bobbing to search for their companions. I was also guilty of this, searching for Cara’s tall and muscular form. I soon found it, weakly running towards her.

“Cara! Where did you go?”

She embraced me, breathing deeply. “Is B-Li here?”

I shook my head.

“Sir Ius said I couldn’t go back for you guys. I watched you arrive, but I couldn’t do anything- he held me still.”

“I don’t understand. I didn’t see you. How could he have been holding you if he got me?”

“I’m not quite sure. I think he made me invisible, but he stood there holding my hand until I wound up here. You also turned invisible. Perhaps…” 

Cara sighed. “I don’t understand how any of this works. If there’s only two of us, we receive a special reward, yes?”

I nodded. We stepped apart, watching as Sir Ius went around and talked to each of the girls. He held some sort of book, writing in it, and wherever there stood only one or two girls, he would withdraw some trinkets from his pockets faster than I could see. Finally, he approached Cara and I.

His eyes met ours only briefly before he raised his book, quill in hand. “Your names, please.”

We each told him, and he wrote them down in his book. I could spot a few before ours, grouped together:  _ Janine, Olivia, Billy _ . The book was snapped closed, placed inside a large pocket with its quill. Sir Ius took two small, purple cubes out of his pocket. He placed one in each of our palms. They were the size of dice, but instead of pips they were decorated with faces. One side was angry, another sad, a third neutral, a fourth happy. The fifth and sixth sides were decorated with a monster and an absence respectively.

“Your rewards, for arriving as only two. These are not to be misplaced. You may head inside now.”

I slipped mine into my pocket as he strode away. Cara and I turned to the house-- the large front doors were swung open, with a girl stepping inside. The previous groups had already entered.

Cara and I followed suit, stepping into an elegant and echoing entrance hall. The ceilings were at least a dozen feet above me, a brilliant golden where they were not covered in paintings. I stood in awe, inspecting one of a winged man kneeling in front of a dirty child. The scene was intensely detailed- there, I could see each individual hair on his head, every pore on his face- it was beautiful. It seemed so alive. His blue eyes bored into the child’s, yet also into mine. I half expected them to blink suddenly, for him to turn and greet me in a deep voice, to hold me close and tell me it would all be okay. His face seemed so kind and caring-

I don’t know how long I stood there, but after some time a girl bumped into me. I was ready to yell at her, but stopped at the thick blood still dripping down her arms. Oh.

I stepped aside, regaining my senses, and nudged Cara with an elbow. She snapped out of her daze, having been staring at a mural on the floor. We walked further in, to where a woman stood. She wore a maid’s uniform, smiling warmly at us.

“Good afternoon, my Ladies. I am Dorothea. Your names, please?”

I raised an eyebrow at the word “Ladies.” Cara took my silence as her designation to go first. “Cara.”

“This way, then, Lady Cara.”

Cara took the woman’s hand, and as I watched they walked off, upstairs, yet a phantom of the woman remained in the same place. Her hollow smile remained, though her skin was now eerily transparent and flickered a bit. After a few moments, she solidified, once again appearing as a normal woman.

“Your name please?”

“I...I’m Jordan.”

“This way then, Lady Jordan.” Just as before, she extended her hand. I took it.

We walked out into a giant central area, the size of a ballroom, before crossing to a carpeted staircase. My hand slid on the smooth wooden railing, noticing the detailed carvings of lions and mythical beasts. We walked down a hallway, past rows of identical doors with placards.  _ Harriette _ .  _ Tova _ .  _ Isabella _ .  _ Obedience _ .

We reached a door marked with  _ Jordan _ . Dorothea opened it, ushering me inside. The door closed behind us.

“Dinner shall be served at six exactly. Before then, we must feed and clean you. Would you care to shower first, or after you dine?”

“I want to eat,” I muttered, walking into the bedroom. A green canopy bed was pushed against the far wall, next to stained glass windows. A small door led to a balcony outside, another to a bathroom, and a third to a closet, perhaps? A cute table sat in the middle of the room, already set.

I turned to find Dorothea in a curtsy. “My pleasure, Lady Jordan. What would you like to eat?”

“Uh…” I paused. Anything? I could have anything? “Roast beef and matzo ball soup?”

“As you wish, my Lady. I will be back shortly.”

Dorothea curtsied again before leaving. I took this time to freely move around the rooms, feeling the soft fabrics. I thought briefly of Meenah, but pushed her out of my mind. Green seemed to be the main theme of this room- green curtains, green wood for the bed, green canopy, green drawers, green wardrobe, green doors. This was only ever interrupted by a pale white, still tinged green a bit. White door knobs that shone like pearls. I tapped one, wondering if it was actually made of a giant pearl. I wouldn’t put it past this Mr. Argyle, whoever he was. His entrance hall was so regally decorated… 

I clenched my fists. To think, a single man had all this while I’d starved on the streets for so many years. My nails dug into my palms.

There were six knocks at the door, arriving in 

pairs. A soft voice accompanied them: “I have your meal, my Lady.”

“Okay.”

Dorothea entered, balancing a wooden tray flat on her palm. A series of warm smells hit my nose, causing my stomach to growl. It made me a bit nauseous- it smelled so good, yes, but I hadn’t eaten in- I stopped. How long had it been? A day? A day and a half? I shouldn’t feel so hungry after such a short time. Perhaps it was the richness that threw me off. 

Dorothea set the tray down on the table I’d noticed before. She pulled out the chair, a smile still on her face. I wondered briefly if she was being forced to smile- the longer I stared, the more unnatural it seemed. I sat, looking down at the hefty pile of meat and the deep china bowl of soup. Twin matzo balls floated in the yellow depths.

I took a spoonful of soup and matzo ball, blowing the heat away. Dorothea stood, waiting.

“Is it to your liking, Lady Jordan?”

The taste kept me silent. I nodded quickly, taking another spoonful and burning my tongue. I ate fast, probably not like the Lady I was supposed to be. I wasted none of my meal- fuck those rules about only eating a third of your meal. This was damn good food. I hadn’t had a good matzo ball soup since my childhood. 

I closed my eyes, thinking back to my childhood. Grandmother Chava’s house in the mountains, during mid-spring. The long table, its plain white cloth… This didn’t taste like my grandmother’s soup. It  _ was _ her soup.

Dorothea’s voice cut through my thoughts once more. “Shall we bathe and dress you, my Lady?”

I opened my eyes. I’d really eaten everything. I hadn’t felt this full in months.

“Why do you call me a Lady?”

“I am supposed to. All of you are Ladies.”

“Is Mr. Argyle a Lord?”

Dorothea paused. She smiled, but seemed unsure as to how to answer the question. “Yes, my Lady.”

“Where from? Oxenvale? Xenxival?”

Dorothea paused. She smiled, but seemed unsure as to how to answer the question. “Yes, my Lady. Are you ready for your bath?”

“What?”

“We must bathe you before dinnertime. Come- into the bathroom, my Lady.”

I was gently shooed into the bathroom, my dirty shoes leaving marks on the white marble tiles. I kicked them off, sitting on the edge of a tub large enough for four. Dorothea turned a golden knob, warm water rushing to create a deep pool. I ripped off what remained of my clothes, pausing only to look back at Dorothea. I barely know this woman. Would she…?

I covered my chest, sheepishly smiling at Dorothea. “Would you mind turning around?”

Dorothea nodded, covering her face as she moved away. “Of course, my Lady.”

I breathed deeply, slipping into the water until it covered me entirely. 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> guess y'all get a little early surprise cause I'm very tired and mistook today for Sunday

“Isn’t this neckline a bit…?” I struggled for words as I stood in front of the mirror, feeling the emerald fabric that now covered me. It was soft yet firm. Tiny moss-colored diamonds climbed down the seams.

“It suits you perfectly, my Lady.”

I disagreed. My body was all sharp angles and long limbs, stuck in some sort of awkward metamorphosis. I didn’t look right in such a lovely dress, meant for someone much more beautiful than I.

“Yeah, about that. How did you find a dress with my measurements? I’d expect it’d be hard.”

Dorothea paused. She smiled, but seemed unsure as to how to answer the question. “Yes, my Lady. Is the jewelry also to your satisfaction?”

Oh yes, that. I lifted my right wrist, watching a bracelet of brightly-colored glass shapes fall down my arm. Around my neck hung a circular locket, edged with geometric shapes. In the center it depicted a green doe grazing under a crescent moon. I’d popped it open earlier, storing the die from Sir Ius inside. It was nice, though I didn’t understand why everything around me was green. Green room, green dress, green locket...

Dorothea didn’t glance at the clock, yet she spoke with confidence. “It is 5:54 P.M., my Lady. Shall we head downstairs?”

“Sure.” I took her hand and we stepped outside.

A line of girls, all in equally magnificent dresses, stepped out in step with me. Each held a Dorothea by the hand. The Dorotheas disappeared, one materializing near the stairs.

“This way, please,” Dorothea instructed, gently descending the stairs. I turned to a girl behind me, recognizing her vaguely. Our gazes met, but after a moment she rolled her eyes and pushed me forwards. I ran a bit to catch up to the girls in front of me, noticing that these boots were surprisingly easy to run in.

We went to the left from the bottom of the stairway, passing briefly into a hallway that ended in two large, paneled wooden doors. The wood was almost black in color, with two small door knobs that seemed to do little. Dorothea stood in front of the doors, a finger to her lips to shush those of us who had begun to ask questions.

“Mr. Argyle awaits inside. Dinner shall be served in a few moments’ time.”

Dorothea pushed the doors open, and seemed to disappear. Her form paled and blinked for a few seconds before fizzling out entirely. A murmur rose among a few of the girls as we walked in. 

As with the entrance hall, every surface was decorated with paintings and murals. Cabinets displaying exotic trinkets and specimens were stacked against the walls between enormous stained glass windows. A long table, with one chair larger than the others, sat in the middle of the room. A dinner for fourteen. Name cards rested delicately on each plate, curling calligraphy spelling out names. I found mine near the left end of the table, in front of a window depicting an eclipse.

The large chair remained empty. I turned to my neighbors: a blonde with delicately-curled hair named Althea, and a spiky-haired brunette named ‘Billy.’ Althea was dressed all in a sky blue, while Billy roughly contrasted in dark brown. I leaned towards Althea first.

“Hey. I’m Jordan.”

Althea turned, as if just noticing me. She gave me a once over, her head tilted back as if she were looking down on me. She must’ve found me acceptable, breaking the tense silence first.

“Althea. Pleasure.”

“Seems colors are important to these folks,” I joked, gesturing to our dresses. Althea’s was a high-necked piece with rather short sleeves, almost nonexistent. I couldn’t see much under the table, but her dress seemed to grow more transparent with each inch. Raised patterns, similar to roses and vines, decorated the fabric.

“Indeed.” Her voice was cold, though I didn’t understand why. I turned away, hoping the other girl would be more friendly.

“Do-” I paused, watching as Billy tried to slide an engraved fork down her tight sleeve. Her eyes met mine, lips twitching with either a grimace or a smile. She held a finger to her lips before speaking in a hushed tone.

“One o’ these forks must be worth more than my brother. If you’re smart you’ll take one for yourself. They won’t notice. Nobles lose stuff all the time.”

I glanced at the array of utensils in front of me. Why did we need four different spoons each? It really was a waste, but I felt uneasy stealing from this man. Mr. Argyle’s home was unsettling, and his servants unnatural. Maybe I’d wait until after dinner.

The clocks chimed. I whipped around, startled. There were so many clocks in the room. How had I not noticed them? Dozens of them, all screaming and whispering 6:00.

The doors whipped open. A figure strolled forward, doubles of his form flickering wildly around the room as he stalked around the table. His shoes clacked against the floor, somehow louder than the clocks. The clocks sounded muted, now that I thought about it.  _ I don’t understand… _

He wore a crisp evening suit, hands clutched behind his back. His chest was puffed out as his pace quickened to a fast walk, a jog, a run though his feet barely left the ground. His footsteps echoed in my ears, his doubles in my vision, a whisper running through my mind-- I could barely hear it, almost, if I strained a bit more I could understand it. I watched him, still straining, as he stopped behind a young girl, grabbing one of her braids, lifting her into the air, biting into her exposed neck, blood dripping down his jaws onto his lovely suit, the girl’s vocal chords pulled taut and exposed, her form limp and lifeless, she-

What.

Mr. Argyle was seated at the head of the table. He lifted a crystal glass into the air, smiling as he toasted to our future successes, our well-spent days at his estate, and our youth. He brought the glass-- wait, when was it filled with wine?-- to his mouth, dark red staining his lips. I blinked. His lips were unstained. He was perfectly composed.

What the fuck.


	5. Chapter 5

I don’t remember raising my glass to my lips. I don’t remember eating dinner. I don’t remember dessert.

I remember being back in my room, Dorothea helping me to undress. I examined my long nighttime shift- the fabric was beautiful, with slight curling designs, white on white. I stepped into a pair of floppy slippers, quite warm and soft on my blistered feet. Dorothea spoke.

“It is currently 9:23, my Lady. You may choose to go to bed for the night, or chat with the other Ladies around the estate. My Lord only asks that you stay inside, and stay out of the West Wing. Is there any way I can tend to your needs at this time, my Lady?”

I shook my head, itching to explore. Dorothea stepped out of the room, leaving me finally alone. I waited for a few minutes before exiting the room myself, a white robe pulled over me. I made sure to lock the door behind me, and secured the locket around my neck. The die was silent inside it.

I padded slowly, hand gliding over the soft wood of the banister. Moonlight shone through a large stained glass window, casting an array of colored moonbeams onto the floor below. Like everything else in this mansion, it seemed too beautiful, almost unreal.  _ It’s so pretty.  _

I watched a shape flit through the beams, shifting from white to a dozen different colors, before settling on white again. A girl, in a similar white night shift. Her braids bounced with her movements. She dashed out of my sight, through some doorway underneath where I stood. She made no sound in her slippers.

_ Curious _ . My mind shifted back to the...dream? Hallucination? Whatever it was that I had witnessed at dinner. The young girl in the crimson dress. Her braids.

I descended quickly. As my eyes adjusted to the dark I thought back on the ginger girl. What had her name been?

The placards...there’d been one for each girl. Althea, the blond next to me… Billy, the brunette on my other side… Tova, the girl with dark curling hair… This was useless.

Underneath where I’d stood a few moments earlier was a servant’s hallway, narrower and less grand than those I’d seen before in this house. Still, its brilliance outshone those in any other home-- the paint seemed to shimmer and move, even in the darkness. I paused in front of a purple vine that climbed down the wall and disappeared behind dark brown wood. It really did seem like it was moving. Wiggling. Wriggling. Squirming.  _ Squirming.  _ My hand extended to gently brush the wall.

The wall was cool and soft against my palm. I ran my knuckle down the wall, mesmerized by the other designs. Exotic flora, in deep reds and blues, surely brighter in the sun’s light. Flowers with hundreds of detailed petals, each a slightly different shade- such detail, such precise work. How long did this house take to make? How could any man own such a beautiful home? How did-

There was a faint clatter from down the hall. I turned. I paused. Did I just spend ten minutes staring at this wall?

I shook my head clear and padded down the hall. Past a few store rooms, a washroom, and another hallway was a large kitchen, tucked away into a little corner that seemed smaller than it was. Though it was late at night, and there were no obvious sources of light, the room was well-illuminated. Five girls were inside- two sat upon a counter, one was looking through cabinets, another girl was bent over a stove, and a final girl was lazily stirring a mug with her spoon as she leaned against a cabinet. They all looked my ways as I entered.

“Oh! Evening!” Exclaimed a cheery, round-faced girl my age. She put down a canister of brown powder, and gestured at the pot simmering on the stove. “Care for some cocoa?”

I nodded silently, boosting myself onto the counter. As I introduced myself to those in the room, the girl walked over with a warm mug. It tasted sweet and thick on my tongue.

“I’m Tova,” the girl offered.

“Isabella” a brown-eyed blond.

“Esther” a girl with curly red hair.

“Natalie” a brunette with one long braid.

“Obedience” whispered a quiet girl in the corner.

I turned to Obedience, recognizing her-- she was the girl from before, possibly, but not the same from dinner. Her braids were brown, not ginger, and she had a smattering of freckles across her face.

“Was all of this just lying about in the cabinets?” I asked of the girls around me. I sipped some more, noting how rich this cocoa was. Rich cocoa for a rich man.

Isabella nodded, continuing to search through the cabinets. “There’s plenty else here too. Fancy crackers, sweets, fruit juice--”

She gasped, pulling a platter out.  _ “Cake!” _

I peered over the heads of the others as they rushed over. It seemed to be chocolate on chocolate, with a thick layer of chocolate frosting, a sprinkle of sprinkles, and a ring of cherries. I wondered how long it’d been in the cabinet-- the cherries still looked fresh and lovely.

The cake was soon divvied up. I was handed a cute plate and delicate silver fork. I watched as they left a solitary slice out.

Natalie must’ve seen me eyeing it, for she spoke first. “Harriette went to the library to explore a bit more. She’ll be back eventually.”

“Do you want me to deliver it to her? I wanna continue exploring. This house is so big.”

Natalie shrugged, handing me the plate. “If this is an excuse to get more cake… there’s probably more in one of these cabinets.”

I shook my head and said my goodbyes to those in the kitchen as I went back into the hall. It was as if I’d left some sort of bubble-- out in the hallway, all was dark and silent. I heard muffled laughter after four steps, and none after five.

Upstairs I went, realizing I had no clue where the library was. It was upstairs, right? Lords and Ladies usually had their parlors and drawing rooms and studies and libraries on the second floor, yeah? I searched for an imagined library doorway-- two large wooden doors, perhaps, into a long room. 

I soon found this house had a lot of doors like that on the second floor alone. The first set of doors I opened indeed led into a long room, but instead of books ‘twas....empty. Did this nobleman really just have an empty room in his house? I didn’t know whether to be deflated-- perhaps he wasn’t so grand if he had an entirely empty room-- or awed that he had enough space in his house for a room one could do anything with. I approached the windows-- the far wall was almost entirely glass, with thin columns of carved wood splitting up the view every dozen feet. 

The window overlooked the front of the manor-- sprawling fields of neatly-trimmed grass, tinged blue by the night’s lack of sun. In the distance was.... 

Actually, I couldn’t tell. 

The view seemed to shift every few moments, as if not real. At first glance I saw distant forests stretching over the horizon. As I doubletaked there were now mountains, towering above us, piercing the heavens. If these mountains, so far into the view, loomed so tall....how tall were they truly? Thousands of feet? Tens of thousands? Those sharp slopes-- surely, there man built Babel, so close to the heavens....

And then the mountains were gone. It was just rolling fields, down and down, as if we were upon some immense hill, the top of the world. I couldn’t see where they ended, the gently-decreasing slopes. Just distant sky, slightly lighter blue-- perhaps a distant ocean. Yes, that’s what it was-- an ocean! A vast, impossibly-deep ocean, shifting between a thousand shades of blue, deepest navy to palest baby blue, some cornflower blue speckled in, and perhaps a splash of turquoise here and there. A dark shape swam just under its surface, and a few glittering creatures flew out of the water to reemerge seconds later.

And then that was gone. Forest again. A more jungle-like forest, yes, but a forest. I stepped back, suspecting that, were I to stand there, I would see no repeated sights before I died of old age. I wondered if they were illusions, or perhaps if the mansion were actually moving through the world.

 I stopped pondering and left quickly. As the door closed with a small thud, my memories, so vivid, already began to fade. I continued onwards to the library.  _ Goodbye, dear sights _ .

The next door, as my good fortune would have it, was indeed the library-- or, at least, its second floor. Above, I could see more balconies-- a third level, a fourth level, a fifth level, a sixth level, more and more stretching upwards far as I could see. Somehow, though the library stretched upwards through infinity, the ceiling seemed to bear down on me, beautifully painted. I held the bannister as I circled about, trying to decipher the seemingly-connected scenes. It seemed like some grand story, illustrated with impossible colors, unreal in their tints and shades.

The beginning, a genesis, the Earth’s genesis-- no, before that, the genesis of the universe itself. Strange explosions from thin air-- no, from nothingness itself!-- that collided, particles ever so gently drifting till they touched and sparked with raw energy and potential. My eyes quickly scanned over this section, uninterested in the incomprehensible origin. Was I a scientist? Was I a philosopher? Yes, but not much more than the average human, wondering about their short life.

Was this Adam? There, a male figure, hidden between the trees, his wife lagging a few steps behind. The paint...moved, Adam’s arm shifting to stretch upwards and grab at a date. In the branches of a tree waited an owl, much too large and dark against the lively colors of the forest. My eyebrows knitted in confusion. No snake?

Cain, standing over his brother’s bloodied corpse, the flesh still seeping blood into the dark, dark earth. Only a few paces from Adam and Eve, though the characters did not acknowledge each other. Cain’s face was shadowed, his whole body shadowed, the hot, hot sun gargantuan behind him. Another shape, nearly as large, loomed over Cain, blocking out the sun, casting those deep, deep shadows. A wolf.

What?

Beings, in pale blues and whites and greenish-blues and pinkish hues and colors we cannot see, flitting down from the sky, the parting heavens, wings ripping off their bloody backs, halos turning red as human blood and turning into shackles, binding them to the Earth. These angels cared not, reaching out, grasping, clutching the hands of so many young men and women, taking them, joining them, progeny generating. Still, however, hovered one angel, wings intact though he held a human limply in the air-- an angel made of darkest black. I’d have thought him a hole in the ceiling, save for the lack of stars.

I ripped my eyes away, hands racing to cover my eyes. I found them wet and burning-- not with tears. They were sticky. I quietly sobbed before daring a glance at my fingers-- sap, almost, save for its warmth and pale purple color. Whatever this is, whatever this was, I don’t....

I wished to look back, to see how far this being stretched, quietly in the background yet also dominating the image, strangely present and absent. How far back, to the universe’s genesis? How far forward, to today? How had--

Somewhere, a thud. A giggle. A laugh, another voice’s. The noises echoed up and up and up, lost in the infinite ceiling. I peered over the bannister, down and down and down. I began my steady descent, wiping more of the strange substance from my eyes, refusing to look at the floor or the books or the windows or the photos and paintings that lined the wall where books were absent. I hoped my sense of direction and the hand on the bannister would keep me safe. I trusted this house little before, and now not at all.


	6. Chapter 6

It seemed like eternity till I made it to the bottom. I slowly peeled my hand from my face. I wiped my hands on the bannister, wishing desperately to get the strange residue off me. Satisfied with my results, I avoided looking up at the sinister ceiling, instead examining a long bookshelf near me. Through my slippers I could feel the soft carpet underfoot turn to polished wood. 

The books seemed to be arranged at random. I pulled out one and found an outdated atlas, labeling the world with countries I’d never heard of in ink on weathered parchment. The red volume next to it, however, seemed to be a fairy tale of a shapeshifting hero. I opened the next book down the line, a thick medical textbook containing anatomical diagrams of common animals, but dropped it at a sudden giggle. 

The thud was muffled by the carpet under me, a miracle considering I had remembered the carpet as ending ten paces back. I placed it back on the shelf and carefully stepped towards the giggling. It grew in frequency and intensity as I rounded a few corners. The bookshelves towered over me, holding at least twenty feet on my own height. 

“Shh, Billy! Oh my gods someone’s gonna hear us!” 

“I think they already did” a deeper voice responded. 

“Oh, hi” I offered, trying not to stare at the two half-naked girls in front of me. I recognized one as Billy, the girl who’d sat next to me at dinner. She gave me a roguish wink. The girl clutching Billy’s shirt was a stranger. She brushed black bangs out of her flushed face. 

“Hi. I’m Jordan. Sorry to bother you, I was just, uh, looking for someone? A girl named Harriette?” 

The girl shook her head, glancing at Billy. “We haven’t seen anyone else in the library. We saw someone in the hallway earlier, a youngish girl with braids, I think. Is that your Harriette?” 

I started to answer, but then remembered I’d never asked Natalie what Harriette looked like. I spun around, confused. _Wait, I-_

Where was that cake? 

I turned back to Billy and her friend. I shrugged. “Maybe. I actually don’t know what she looks like. Guess I’ll go. Which way is out?” 

The girl pointed past me. “Just go back down the bookshelves and to the right. You’ll eventually reach some grand doors that bring ya out....somewhere. We didn’t explore much.” 

She blushed. “I’m Janine, by the way. Janine White.” 

I nodded my head and waved at her and Billy. Billy winked again, and then again-- was there something in her eye?-- as I walked off. Though I could no longer hear Billy and Janine, I felt uncomfortable intruding on them. The books did tempt me, though: so many, I’d never seen such a collection before in my entire life. Never even heard of one. 

As I walked, I soon found the door Janine had referenced. They were tall, taller than the bookshelves that shadowed me, with intricate designs etched into the wood. Swirling circles, spirals, loops. At first they seemed abstract, but as I peered closer it seemed to make a sort of sense. It was a star map, with spheres of varying sizes representing planets. Comets danced around them, constellations faintly traced by incredibly thin lines. 

In the midst of the many stars, one planet was impossibly big. It was vast, and its rounded edges seemed as if they were expanding. I didn’t recognize the continents on its surface, or the rings that encircled it. 

There was a thud behind me. I turned slowly, slightly tired of the weird shenanigans of this place. Yes, I was intrigued by the mysteries, but couldn’t a gu- couldn’t I get a break? 

On the carpet-- had there been carpet before?-- sat a thin black pamphlet. It seemed much too light to be the source of the noise, but nothing else seemed out of place. I bent down and turned it over to reveal the title. 

_The Mysteries of the Universe: A Pamphlet on Timeless Beings by ----_

The name was obscured by some thick, congealed substance of a red color. I tried to rub at it, but though plenty came off on my hands, the name remained obscured. I sniffed at my fingers, noting the familiar metallic smell of blood. 

_O-kay then. I’m leaving now._

I pushed through the doors, stepped into the new room, 

and the library was gone. 

\---- 

There was a door behind me, only one. It bore no celestial designs-- it was a plain and inexpensive wooden door, more human-sized than the doors in the library. I still held the pamphlet, my hands covered in the blood-- probably human blood, considering the many inexplicable horrors and strangeness I’d seen around this house. It was as if I’d stepped into one of those dime novels. 

"Ah, there you are! Keep quiet, yes? Let’s wash that blood off you.” 

Before I could turn around the man stepped in front of me. He put a lilac-colored hand on mine and used his other hand to tilt my head up, yellow eyes squinting into my own. He gave me a perfect smile that scrunched up his face and made his eyes close, teeth white as marble. 

He put a finger in front of his lips before leading me around. I was in a small windowless room, all wooden and ordinary. He led me to a wash basin. I tucked the pamphlet under one arm as I let the blood flow off me. 

“How are you?” 

I made to answer but he put his finger in front of my face and smiled again. “Oh, yes, you can’t speak. Stay silent. The Owl won’t know where you are if you don’t speak. His eyes watch, yes, but it is his ears you must fear, for his ears do hear-- oh yes, they _do!_ ” 

He was gleeful as he said the last part, as if delighted by his rhymes. He clapped his hands together and laughed a little. “I am-- ooh, well, I can’t say that. Excuse my insanity, J-- hmm, no. No names. I’ll call you....” 

He took the pamphlet from under my arm and began flipping through, muttering to himself. “Safe names, safe names, safe names.... Ah, here we are. Point at a name, dear. I need something to refer to you as.” 

The page was weathered and yellow-brown, but the ink seemed new. It was emerald green, and sparkled a little in the dim, sourceless light of the room. At the top it spelled out my name, and under it a list. 

_Jordan_

_River Farewell Brook_

_Vale Delta Dale_

_Rill Dene Dell_

The list continued for a long while. As I scanned the page, eyes going lower and lower, it was as if the page was disappearing behind itself to make way for more names. When I looked back up, however, the same names were still at the top. 

“Oh, mind not the ink. I forget you’re not used to this. Here, let me--” 

The man took the book from me and blew against the spine. He handed it back, and the words stopped shifting. I pointed at Rill. 

“Oh, Rill, huh? I was banking on ‘Farewell’, but I suppose Rill is much more optimistic.” He laughed quickly and closed the pamphlet in my hands. 

“Do not ever abandon this.” He spoke, eyes closed, smile glued on a cheerful yet serious face. “If this is discovered, you are dead. If this is lost, your chances of survival are seriously lowered. I have no idea who wrote this, but it’s your best chance. It chooses someone who’s likely to survive. It chose you! Be happy. You will probably survive.” 

He opened his bright yellow eyes again and stepped closer, head bending to examine me oddly. “Rill, you are _fascinating_. Call me-” 

He took the pamphlet and flipped through its pages. I didn’t catch any of the other names as he scanned the page in a second and closed it again. “Call me Eudoxia! A pretty name, isn’t it?” 

He put a finger in front of my face. “You must separate the name you usually use from Rill. Then you can speak. You aren’t that _person_ \-- in this place you are Rill. Different person. Different persona. Different time, different memories, everything must be _different_ or he will hear us. I am not the me the other you might meet one day. I am Eudoxia. I am thinking as Eudoxia. I am not that other person. _Do you understand?_ ”

His voice was strained. I breathed deeply and closed my eyes. 

_I am Rill. I am....Not in the same time, I am older. My birthday will be April 12th, of a different year. I am Rill. I don’t know Cara. I don’t know Meenah. I know.... _

I struggled to create a new person, new memories, a new life in my head. 

_I know Sarah and Moira and Edward. I am a farmhand. I love working with the geese. The geese can be challenging but I know them well. I’m the goose expert._

I smiled, imagining myself wrangling a goose by her neck. I almost laughed out loud, and had another image of myself bemoaning the common occurrence of stepping in goose shit. My mind was really obsessed with the geese, huh? I tried to imagine my house. The farmhouse. I had a small room in the attic. At night  I stared at the dried herbs that dangled over me, and listened for the crickets. 

There was a glass window in the attic, by the head of my bed. Whenever I pressed my hands against it, no matter what season nor the weather outside, the glass was cool. Never freezing, never warm. Cool enough to comfort. I'd spy through the panes at the fireflies during summer, watching them dance about in the grass. I wished I could join them. Sometimes I did. Sometimes I snuck outside, while everyone else was asleep, and imagined I was fae. 

"God I miss the fireflies."

I opened my eyes and reached for my mouth. Eudoxia smiled and waggled his finger in front of me.

"No need to panic. You've done well, Rill. You are Rill."

"I am Rill?"

"“Yes! Congratulations on joining this world. Okay, let’s talk quickly. The other you must be back in bed before this hour is up. We have ten minutes.

“That pamphlet--” he tapped the paper. “Is your tool. You-- you here, not the other you, so you must do this before you leave-- must blow on the spine with intent. Imagine it shrinking, and it shall become small. You can fit it in that necklace you and the other you have. The clothes are the same, Rill, and the other you will remember this, though not as you are currently.”

"Eudoxia, what is the pamphlet?"

“That’s your key to living here, and knowing the Owl. The Owl is a type of creature you, nor the other you for that matter, would not normally encounter. He can be very deadly, so this pamphlet tells you the ins and outs of his kind. Only check it in private-- _truly_ private-- areas. The bathroom in other you’s bedroom would work, for example, as long as the Maid is gone. Always listen, and always check for the eyes. No noise, no windows, no eyes-- and you shall be safe.”

"Who are you? Or, who is the other you?

“Well, Eudoxia is a clerical assistant from five thousand years ago in a different universe with a _very_ different history-- to think we’d consider _that_ an empire, _hah_! The other me, the not-Eudoxia me, works for the Owl. He will try to help you, but he cannot outwardly do so, nor can Eudoxia. The Owl watches, and he knows that the other me feels empathetic towards the other you and the other younglings. Not the other you specifically, but oh those poor humans!”

"What are you and the other you, if not human?"

He smiled. “Ah, so funny! None of the Owl’s servants are humans! Except maybe his Sir. I am unsure. The Sir may be a different world’s version of a human, perhaps, or a human hybrid. The Sir is very secretive. We all have to be, lest the Owl truly control us. Personally, I, and the other me, are quite like the fae you knew as a child, Rill. We change shapes and forms. Never the same for long! This form itself is so new and foreign to me. I do love the skin-- so much softer than the older other me had. Or should I say the younger other me? I do miss the color, though. I loved being the stars.”

"By the Sir, do you mean--"

“Shhh, Rill! Remember, no real names! It is the human-- probably human, that is, perhaps other-human or human hybrid-- that the other you met when the other you entered those carriages, and when the other you arrived at the estate. Tall, quite tall. He does love to rise above the best-- I mean, the rest, but I suppose that misspeaking does work.

I could feel the seconds ticking by. I blew against the spine of the book, letting it shrink and become compact in my hands. The skill of envisioning its change and wishing it into existence came naturally to this version of me. The pamphlet was tiny, and I easily placed it into the locket. "Is there anything more before I return to the other me?"

“No mention of this if you see me in the Owl’s domain. Technically, this too is the Owl’s, but it is a secret room of my own, and we are not the same people whom he normally commands. Still, if you or the other you sees the other me, do not mention this. Treat me as a stranger.”

I nodded. His words held the threat of death, or a fate much worse. Not directed towards me\-- it was something that would befall him primarily, though I or the other me might be dragged in. This house was full of secrets, and they were indeed dangerous ones.

Eudoxia pressed a kiss against my forehead, almost maternal in his actions. His eyes were full of tears. “Sweetest dreams, Rill, and other you. Dream of what you cannot have. Dream of what you’ve given up to be here, for it is a sorrowful journey you will undertake. I’m so sorry the other me tricked you with those advertisements.”

I was Jordan, and the room was gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so in the original text for this I used different text colors to differentiate between people and their alternates. AO3 doesn't seem to have this, so I'll be using underlining and bolding. I'll also use name indicators in future chapters-- sorry if it looks a bit ugly but it's necessary.


	7. Chapter 7

I blinked sleep out of my eyes as the curtains were drawn open. Bright light hit me, streaming through ivy-covered windows in an array of colors. Now that it was daytime, I half expected the stained glass to reveal some story or grand design, but I didn’t care to sit about and be entranced. I pushed myself up from a pile of overly-fluffed pillows with some difficulty.

“Good morning, my Lady. How have you slept? Was the room to your tastes?” Dorothea smiled at the foot of my bed.

“Oh, uh, morning. It’s good. The room is good.”

She smiled wider. “Excellent. Shall we get you bathed and dressed for breakfast, Lady Jordan?”

She led me into the washroom and drew a bath for me. Again, I had her turn around as I sank into the warm depths. After a while, I emerged and she helped me into a simple green dress. The dress was much less elaborate than the one from dinner, though it still lay far above my standards. It had a small and sensible scoop neckline, with a hem that ended a few inches above my knees and long sleeves. The dress was a pale green, like lamb’s ear.

Underneath, I wore brown running shoes and long white socks. I wondered if the simple, more utilitarian garments meant we’d undergo some sort of test today, or perhaps travel from the estate to....somewhere. Who knew what plans were being set in motion?

Dorothea brought an ornate wooden comb through my hair one last time before setting it down on the dresser. “This way to breakfast, my Lady. Breakfast shall be in the solarium today.”

She led me out into the hallway, in time with a crowd of similarly-dressed girls. All in their respective colors, just as the night before, but each girl’s dress was similarly toned down compared to their outfits at dinner. In front of me I recognized little Obedience in a dress the color of daisies. She flashed me a quick smile before running to catch up with the others-- I saw Isabella and Tova ahead.

Dorothea led us down the stairs and through the hallway from the night before-- the one that led to the kitchen. This time, however, the hallway extended onwards, past the kitchen, leading to an entirely new section of the house that had not existed, or perhaps had been hidden, the night before. 

It was beautiful, the solarium. Almost every wall was glass-- no,  _ every _ wall was glass. The door we’d emerged from had vanished. The house had vanished. There was only the glass, and the nature outside. Miles of greenery, beautiful fields soon turning into forests. To the southwest, assuming the sun was actually rising in the east, was a large pond. It was perfect. It was too perfect. 

There were no creatures. I heard birdsong, but the leaves did not move. No frogs jumped by the pond. No deer hid amongst the bushes. There wasn’t a single creature, not even a fly.

A long table sat in the middle of the room, already fully stocked with fruit juices, place settings, covered serving platters and dishes, and a long white tablecloth. On the table in front of each place setting was a white name card, fancy black lettering detailing the intended person to sit there. I slid into my seat and stared at the too-perfect scenery.

There was a large grandfather clock in the middle of the room. I didn’t notice it-- perhaps it hadn’t existed-- until it struck eleven times. As it rang out the final time, a door opened somewhere. My head turned. The door disappeared back into the glass-- a moment ago it was there, dark wood, I’d seen it and then it had vanished just as quickly as it had appeared. I wondered if this was all illusion work.

Mr. Argyle walked into the room. He led a little girl by the hand to a name card that said “Tabitha”. He pulled out the chair for her, movements delicate, as she hefted herself onto the chair. I looked across the table at another name card, another person-- also Tabitha. This Tabitha was the person I’d seen the day before in the entrance hall. The one covered in blood.

The longer I stared at the younger Tabitha, the stranger she appeared. Everything about her, from her platinum blonde braids to her blue eyes, a cloudy color as if she were blind. Her skin itself was so pale I could easily trace her veins. She looked drained of color.

Mr. Argyle stood in front of his chair, fingers drumming against the frame. He began to speak and--

And I was in my room.

I was in my room. The clock read 2:03 P.M. I had lost three hours.


	8. Chapter 8

In the bathroom, I carefully opened up the locket. The pamphlet was still there, in its miniaturized form. Last night’s encounter with Eudoxia felt so far away. Had I actually become a separate person, Rill? What impact did thinking of myself as a different person have on this house?

I squinted at the tiny paper, expecting the words to be small and indiscernible, but found them surprisingly legible. I searched the index, wondering where to start.  _ Creation. Summoning of Alternates. Teleportation. Time Dilation _ . 

I settled on  _ Memory Manipulation  _ and flipped to the appropriate page. A detailed diagram of the human brain greeted me, with red ink circling a region labeled as the hippocampus. Next to the human brain was another diagram, but of a species I....couldn’t know. I think it was humanoid, but....The diagram made no sense to my eyes.

I did a quick 360 in the bathroom, remembering Eudoxia’s words. The window was shut, clouded glass covered by curtains. I couldn’t spot any “eyes” or “ears”, nor any artwork or murals that included them. I warily reopened the pamphlet.

_ Memory manipulation is a common ability of the ---- and his kind. Memory manipulation lets them play with their prey by targeting the hippocampus, a part of the humanoid brain that plays a vital role in the creation and storage of memories. By interfering with the brain’s normal functions, the ---- can do as he pleases without fearing that the prey will know what has happened. Some humans and humanoids may realize there are large chunks of time missing from their memories. To offset this, the ---- may alter time itself, as it relates to the humanoid or humanoids involved (SEE “TIME DILATION”).  _

_ One method of bypassing the memory manipulation and/or time dilation involves the use of a decayed or living thing. As the ---- is not intending to change time for this item or being, the individual physically connected to it will remain untouched as well. An example would be to keep a dead bird or flower petal in one’s pocket, and touch it when the ---- is present. _

I closed the pamphlet, aware that I couldn’t be gone for too long. On the dresser I’d found a note from Dorothea-- I was to come to the courtyard for aptitude testing, whatever that meant. The courtyard was by the kitchen, another door I’d not seen before. I once again found myself wondering about the ever-shifting architecture of this place.

I tucked the pamphlet back into my necklace before proceeding to the courtyard. It was through a small door by the kitchen, and opened into a walled-in enclosure of grass and stone brick. Pillars upheld a small roofed section that circled the open grass and bricks. By one of the corners of the open yard was a wizened oak tree, small and bent despite its signs of age. 

Dorothea clapped her hands together after I entered. She smiled and handed me a candy. Behind her, Sir Ius crossed his arms and spoke in his croaking voice.

“Now that you are  _ all _ here, assemble on the grass. Spread out, making sure to be at least four feet from your neighbors.”

We did as instructed. I ended up next to Cara and briefly met her eyes. I wished I could speak to her, tell her about everything that was happening, but Sir Ius snapped us back to attention.

“Spin eighteen times. Try to stay in place, rather than floundering about. This is not the time to be silly and fool about. Do not try to slow yourselves to do better. Go fast, or you will be made to repeat the test.”

I spun quickly and tried to dig one of my feet into the dirt with each rotation. Above me I could faintly make out blue and a few streaks of white. The enclosure’s walls seemed to reach towards the sky, up and up and up until there was so little to be seen of the blue sky and the clouds that dotted it.

I found myself on the ground, powdery dirt finding its way under my nails. I think I heard someone vomiting. My suspicions were confirmed when Sir Ius sniffed at the air with disgust.

“Take a few moments to reorient yourselves. We will move on once everyone is recovered enough.”

I sat myself against the tree and shut my eyes tight, trying not to throw up. The nausea was overwhelming, and my head felt as if it was still spinning. I tried to breathe deeply and hold onto a thick tree root near my arm.

_ Acorns. _

My eyes snapped open. I looked up into the tree’s branches, and spotted them. Acorns, hanging low, a few hanging low enough for me to reach. I stood slowly and eyed Dorothea and Sir Ius. Dorothea stood by the door, eyes closed. She seemed to flicker a little. I saw another version of her cleaning vomit from the ground. Sir Ius, meanwhile, was checking some papers he’d withdrawn from his coat, writing as he glanced at the girls. I watched him glance at me and write something.

I reached my arms straight above my head, as if stretching. I reached for my toes before going upright again, and....

The acorn was in my hand. I dropped it into my pocket. I walked back towards the others, heart racing but breathing deeply to try and steady it out.

“The next test shall begin. Jump twenty four times, arms going up and then down at your sides as you land again. Try to keep a constant pace.”

\----

We spent the afternoon performing strange exercises. Different routines involving jumping, spinning, running for short lengths and then abruptly stopping, etc. Were they trying to determine which of us were the most athletic? I felt as if I did decently-- I wasn’t very athletic, certainly, but our group did include a few younger kids, along with some girls who seemed as if they weren’t suited for physically-demanding jobs. 

After the “tests” were done with there was a small mid-afternoon meal set up in the courtyard. Sir Ius left us, and Dorothea brought out tables and chairs by herself. She was deceptively strong for her size. Plus, she did have the added benefit of having multiple copies of herself to help with the labor.

I sat down in a chair, noticing there were no name cards this time. The table also lacked a chair for Mr. Argyle. Dorothea stood by the door after opening the serving platters to reveal mountains of food-- little cucumber sandwiches, broccoli and cheddar soup, onion rolls, and more. I poured myself a glass of grape juice and listened in on the table’s conversations.

The two Tabithas sat next to each other across from me. I saw Natalie try to talk to the younger Tabitha, asking where she was from, but she said nothing. Tabitha ate robotically from her plate, her arms at exact angles as she sliced an onion roll in half and slathered it with butter. Natalie frowned and turned back to Esther.

“Where did Harriette go?”

The whisper sliced through the rest of the chatter. I turned to see Obedience, holding on to Tova’s sleeve as she whispered in her ear.

“I don’t know, Bede. I don’t know what happened to her. I don’t know where Tabitha came from.” Tova’s voice was worried as she stared at the younger Tabitha.

“ _ She looks like her _ ” Natalie whispered. “If Harriette had lost her red hair, her dark eyes, the blood under her skin.” 

I wondered if she was the little girl with two braids I’d seen running through the mansion the night before. I wondered why Mr. Argyle had escorted her into the room. There were many mysteries in this place, and none of them had a clear explanation.

I ate a few of the sandwiches and some onion soup. Most of the girls talked about how amazing the mansion was-- the exquisite clothes, the beautiful rooms they’d seen, the mesmerizing paintings. Each description, though, had an air of uncertainty to it. Esther started to describe the cake and by the end of it she’d launched into a deep memory of a cake she’d seen as a little girl. She’d paused and murmured that she hadn’t remembered that memory beforehand. Janine, dreamy smile filling her face, described the wallpaper in her room and how she’d stared at it for hours and hours and hours until the sun had risen. It was just wallpaper, but it was also  _ so much more _ .

There was a whisper in my ear and a hand on mine. “Jordan. Jordan, there’s something weird going on.”

I’d been so absorbed in the stories that I hadn’t even realized she was next to me.

“Cara. I’ve been meaning to talk to you-- I didn’t see you last night.”

Her eyes darted around the courtyard before she leaned closer. “That’s what I wanted to talk about. I don’t remember anything. I remember going to my room, and Dorothea helping me into some fancy dress, and then I was in a different dress, it was a different time, and there was a note for me to come downstairs. Jordan, how many days has it been? How long have we been here?”

“I-I think it’s been a day. I don’t remember dinner, or breakfast, but I-- you can’t remember  _ anything  _ from those hours? Anything?”

She shook her head. Her eyes refused to meet mine, full of paranoia as she surveyed the others at the table. Her grip on me tightened.

“I wanna go home.” Her voice sounded so small. Before it had been hard for me to imagine muscley, confident Cara as scared. I didn’t like seeing this.

“Maybe if you talked to one of them? Sir Ius? They might let you leave.”

“They’re saying some girl disappeared. Harriette. What if I disappear?”

Her hand shook. I glanced around. No one seemed to care about us. I turned towards the young Tabitha, suspicious, but she seemed absorbed by the process of eating. Dorothea stood, still as when she’d first moved by the door, eyes closed.

“I will avenge you.”


	9. Chapter 9

The meal ended soon after, and with it there was a new series of tests. Dorothea escorted us each into our respective bedrooms, all at once with her duplicity. She began taking measurements of my body-- general height, weight, and width-- before moving on to measurements that seemed more random. She lifted each of my arms in turn and measured the distance from the tip of my middle finger to my elbow. Then, the spaces between my toes, the lengths of my arms, the spaces between my fingers. At one point she traced a vein on my palm down my arm and around my body, and wrote something about it on her notepad.

“I believe that will do for now, my Lady. Dinner will be at 6 P.M., as always. It is currently 4:27 P.M. Shall I bathe you in preparation for dinner?”

She moved into a curtsey as she awaited my confirmation. It seemed less like I had a choice-- it was probably intended to make me feel as if I had more freedom in this house than I actually did. I nodded and we moved to the bathroom.

The night’s dress was green, as always, but it was a mix of hues-- the base was a mossy green, with a darker trim and a lighter stitching that created designs of a real forest across the fabric. I found myself wondering how many dresses there were for each girl.  _ How did they know our measurements? _

I quickly transferred the acorn from one dress to the other, and checked that my locket was secure. I fidgeted with it a bit as it hung from my neck.  _ I guess I’ll see if this works tonight. _

Dorothea didn’t glance at the clock, yet she spoke with confidence. “It is 5:54 P.M., my Lady. Shall we head downstairs?”

Oh how the time seemed to vanish.

\----

Her hand in mine, we stepped out into the hallway. As with the night before there was a line of girls, all in equally regal dresses, who stepped out in time with me. Each held a Dorothea by the hand, and as with the night before the Dorotheas all disappeared to materialize as one by the stairs.

“This way, please,” Dorothea instructed, gently descending the stairs. She led us to the same not-quite-black doors. My hand itched to dig into my pocket, but no, not yet, not until I was seated, not until I could keep my hands out of view of others.

Wait, how was I going to eat dinner and hold an acorn?

Dorothea pushed the doors open. Her form paled and blinked for a few seconds before fizzling out entirely. Everything was the same. Everything, down to the minute. It made me oddly nauseous.

The room was the same. My eyes held onto every detail, not with fascination, but instead with determination. I would not forget. I could not forget. I had to remember. I had to know what was happening.

The table was set for fourteen. The name cards seemed to be the same as the ones from the night before, except for the new Tabitha’s name card replacing Harriette’s. My name card was in the same place between Althea and Billy.

Mr. Argyle’s empty chair filled me with dread.

I did a quick sweep of the table and found Cara further down the table, on the other side. Her eyes met mine briefly before she turned back to the girl next to her, someone named Olivia. Cara was trying to keep her cool but I noticed the way she grasped at the tablecloth.

The clocks chimed. I flinched, shoulders hunched up, but forced myself to relax. They screamed and whispered 6:00. I knew what came next, and indeed, on cue, the doors whipped open.

I tried to look at him, but....Fuck, something was  _ wrong _ , horribly wrong. It was as if he was everywhere and nowhere-- there was the real him, or at least it seemed to be the real him, stalking around the table, but there were the other copies of him, all blinking in and out of existence around the room. His shoes, the shoes of the real one, clacked against the floor, louder than the clocks, always louder than the clocks.

My hand dove into my pocket. My fingers found purchase on the acorn, rubbing its surfaces, chipping at the exterior. My hands were sweaty but no way in hell was I letting go. 

It was as if everything came into focus. There were still many of him, yes, but the real him was there, right  _ there _ . I could tell, somehow. He wore an evening suit, it seemed to be the same one as the night before. Hands clutched together behind his back, chest puffed out. His pace quickened.

His feet still barely left the ground. There was that whisper, that infuriating whisper that I couldn’t quite catch. I could hear the hiss of an S, the roll of an R, but the words were out of reach.

I watched as he stopped behind the young Tabitha. 

I watched as he grabbed her by one of her braids.

I watched as he lifted her into the air.

I watched as he bit into her exposed neck.

I watched as the blood dripped down his jaws onto His lovely suit.

I watched Tabitha’s vocal chords shudder, taut and Exposed.

I watched as Tabitha went limp and lifeless.

What.  
Mr. Argyle sucked the blood off the fingers of his free hand. He laughed and dropped Tabitha to the floor. She didn’t move. 

Mr. Argyle strode over to the head of the table and sat down. His suit was still stained with dark crimson blood, but no one else seemed to care.  _ The others. _

I didn’t move my head, but instead tried to look out of the corners of my eyes. The others were transfixed. They didn’t move. They were still and smiling dreamily as they watched Mr. Argyle. I forced myself to smile. 

Mr. Argyle lifted a crystal glass into the air. He toasted to our future successes, our well-spent days at his estate, and our youth. It was the same speech as before. I think. I couldn’t actually hear the words-- they just somehow made their way into my mind. I knew the general gist, but I couldn’t tell how he began, what exactly he said. 

He brought the glass to his mouth. The areas of his lips that weren’t covered with blood were stained deep red, a wine I’d never seen him pour. The glass had been empty.

I wondered what came next. 


	10. Chapter 10

_ I need to examine the pamphlet _ . That was my only thought as I tried to decipher his features. It was as if my eyes were glossing over his face, purposefully ignoring what he looked like. I knew he had a mouth, I think he had eyes, but I couldn’t describe them. What color were his eyes? What color was his skin? Did he have skin? My subconscious refused to remember what he looked like, and my conscious screamed in protest.

I kept looking at Mr. Argyle, just as the others were. He couldn’t know I was awake, aware. Out of the corner of my eye I spotted Dorothea moving between each of us, uncovering plates and pouring fruit juice. I saw her heft Tabitha’s body over her shoulder and disappear from the room.

Mr. Argyle steepled his fingers and stared down the table. He chuckled softly. 

“The young ones are so sweet.”

I forced myself not to shudder. The chills still traveled up my body.

His eyes scanned the table and soon found their purchase. 

“Obedience. How old are you?”

She smiled dreamily. “Twelve, Mister.”

“Ah, just a year older than dear Harriette. Your flesh must be similar.”

“Yes, Mister.”

He snapped his fingers. A heap of food appeared on Obedience’s plate-- chicken, rice, salmon, mashed potatoes, broccoli, dumplings, surely too much food for her to eat. She didn’t react, instead watching Mr. Argyle, hanging onto every word he spoke.

“Make sure to eat well. Do be.... _ obedient _ .”

He laughed at his own joke. Everyone else laughed. I laughed.

I watched Obedience begin shoveling food into her mouth. She didn’t use utensils-- simply dug into the piles of food and stuffed as much as she could into her mouth and down her throat. Her glasses automatically refilled themselves with wine and some sort of fruit juice respectively each time she paused to chug a drink and choke the bigger pieces of food down.

“Go ahead and eat” Mr. Argyle said, motioning forward to the food laid out before us. Each girl began reaching for various platters and poured themselves different drinks. I wondered if there was some pattern I might break, but it seemed as if each person was going for their preferences, rather than being influenced by Mr. Argyle. 

I slid the acorn down my sleeve before serving myself some roast duck and sweet potatoes. It seemed to still work. No one seemed to notice.

“Janine.”

The clatter of forks and knives stopped. Each head swiveled towards Janine in her black dress. She put down her fork and smiled, attentive. 

“Yes, Mister?”

“Are you aware that you are not of this world?”

“No, Mister.”

“Interesting.”

Dinner resumed. It paused again as he spoke.

“I suspect,” he began. “That there a few people here of similar origins. I suspect that they are aware of this fact. I will find them.”

Mr. Argyle didn’t touch any of the food. He sipped at his wine.

“I can taste the difference. I wanted humans.” 

I didn’t see his fist move but I heard the impact. I saw it, tightly curled and slightly shaking, on top of the table. 

His voice was composed as ever when he spoke. “Janine, you are excused. Dorothea, escort Janine to her room. She is our honored guest.”

Dorothea appeared by Janine’s side and helped her up. Arm in arm, they moved towards the door before disappearing.

Dinner continued. 

It felt like an eternity before dinner ended. The entire time, Mr. Argyle watched us with interest, particularly Obedience as she ate. I didn’t understand how the small girl could keep so much down. He’d wave a hand and her plate would refill before she had time to notice. 

He also asked us each questions. They were strange ones-- he asked about our lineages, our usual diets, our exercise levels. He’d move his hand through the air and suddenly we’d jerk around with an invisible force as he examined our skin, how thin we were. He didn’t move from his seat, just stared down the table at us.

Later on, Dorothea re-entered the room with a rolling cart. She cleaned the table of its food and replaced it with towering cakes, bowls of ice cream, large milkshakes, little cookies, dozens of pies, and a thousand other sweets and delicacies. I could already feel my sugar tooth aching. Normally, my stomach would also be protesting at the amount of food-- it seemed as if we’d eaten so much-- yet I found myself hungry nonetheless. My mouth watered at the banana split on my plate, and we each dug in, Obedience included, till we could fit no more in our stomachs.

Mr. Argyle stood. He pulled on a pair of white gloves in an almost exaggerated manner and moved over to Obedience. He was there in an instant-- one moment walking, the next right there. He gently gripped her chin and angled her face up towards him. 

“Sleep well, Obedience. Wouldn’t want you to spoil.”

His voice rose as he addressed the rest of us without turning. “You are excused. You may all leave.”

As one we rose. Mr. Argyle was gone. Dorothea took each of us back to our rooms-- not through normal walking, but via her disappearing and reappearing. It made me ill, but I tried to hold it in. It seemed more manageable than when I’d traveled with Sir Ius.

“It is currently 9:16, my Lady. Would you like to change into your nighttime clothes?”

I shook my head, still trying to even out my breathing. “I’m fine for the night. Thank you, Dorothea.”

Dorothea vanished. I was alone. I breathed deeply and rubbed at my face, rubbed at the muscles that were sore from smiling so unnaturally.

My breathing came out ragged. He’d killed another person tonight. He’d kill Obedience tomorrow, maybe replace her with another lifeless husk to empty out. He was killing us off, draining us, devouring us. We were his 

Meat.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi guys! so sorry this took so long to post-- I totally haven't abandoned this, I was just really busy Sunday and then forgot to post the next few days. Trust me y'all, I have a lot more of this story written, and it's going places.

I locked the bathroom door tight before sliding down it, cradling the pamphlet in my shaking hands. I struggled to still them, to calmly flip through the key to my survival. I wanted to survive. I wanted to live.

I scanned the index again. I wondered if the index had changed-- I saw titles I didn’t remember seeing beforehand, such as  _ Physiology  _ and  _ Culture _ . I didn’t fully understand what was meant by “culture”-- the culture of Mr. Argyle and his kind? I flipped to the page anyway.

There were a few colored illustrations in this section. First was a group of individuals dancing under a star-filled sky. The individuals seemed normal, dressed in fancy suits, but their heads were exploded, trails of blood splatter and chunks of unidentifiable flesh that filled the sky. Though this gore seemed to be a moment frozen in time, viscera flying through the air as if their heads had just been torn apart by bullets, the figures danced. Slowly, their legs moved, their hips twisted, and their backs tilted up towards the stars as if they could still gaze at them.

If I stared, just long enough, at the heads, I could almost see what they used to be.  
The second illustration was similarly curious. A figure led a smaller figure, perhaps a child, to a gently-sloping shore. The figure wore a buttoned maroon shirt and a long off-white skirt. The fabric of the skirt almost seemed to extend into the ground below them. The child bent down to stare through the water at the creek’s bottom. Instead of seeing small fish and tadpoles, however, there was no bottom of the stream-- through the water was a view of the night sky. It wasn’t a reflection, though. The figures were lit, as if standing under a sunny sky. It was almost as if the water were a portal. Stars dotted the strange view below the water, organized into beautiful galaxies, and among them were planets. I recognized a greenish-blue representation of the Earth. 

Just as with the last illustration, their heads were blown apart. Even the child’s head. If I looked hard enough, though.... The chunks seemed angular and familiar.

The third illustration was somehow darker than the others. A figure in a suit stood in front of a swirling, watery vortex, arms stretching the loose liquid that made up its inner edges. As the figure stretched the vortex wider, a view of a distant landscape was revealed. Through the water, rolling hills and green meadows. There was a tiny farmhouse on top of one of the hills, a little dot outside possibly indicating a farmer on their porch. The figure gazing through the portal moved, one leg lifting into the air as if to step into the new world.

The head seemed to piece itself together. It was a jackal’s head, smiling widely with rows of sharp teeth. The heads in all the illustrations were jackals, laughing gleefully.

_ The ---- are a very jovial race. Though they are capable of shapeshifting, their natural heads are eternally smiling, partially due to their physiology but also due to their nature. Most ---- spend their time dancing relentlessly under windows to other worlds, watching events as they unfold. If they feel particularly excited that night, the dancers may choose to reach through the windows and interfere with the worlds, possibly taking their dance through the portal or else pulling an individual from another world to join their dance. _

_ It is unknown why this dancing delights them so much. As seen in their cerebral diagram (SEE “PHYSIOLOGY”), the “pleasure center” of the ---- is drastically different from the average humanoid’s nucleus accumbens. The obsession with dancing, thus, may instead be related to the species’s history, a type of cultural tradition, rather than it actually giving them a physical sensation of pleasure. _

_ When not engaging in these dances, a ---- may choose to visit the breeding grounds. There is very little research on the species’s mating habits, but it is believed two or more adult individuals come together in order to form one to twelve children. On average, a ---- visits the breeding grounds every 126.7 million years. With their free time, the individual may also choose to raise their children, discuss the events of other worlds with other ----, gather food, and feast to satiate themselves for the duration of the dance they will return to, if not longer. A ---- fills their stomach for a minimum of 367,000 years at a time, and the longest recorded length between eating times was 9.8 billion years. _

It didn’t say anything about them more permanently crossing over to other worlds. Mr. Argyle was an outlier, that could be sure. I peered at the third illustration, tracing the figure’s suit with a finger. It almost looked like Mr. Argyle, what I could remember of him. Did he really have a jackal’s head? He had some sort of mouth. I thought he had lips, humanoid ones, when he drank Harriette’s blood, but I suppose I could have been wrong. He almost certainly had the teeth, given how he’d ripped her throat apart.

I hid the pamphlet away before stepping back into the bedroom. I checked the time-- 10:17 P.M. Somehow I’d spent ages staring at those pages. I rifled through a dresser, hands dancing over what seemed like an endless supply of clothes-- leggings, dresses, tunics, underwear, finally nightgowns. All seemed to be fitted to my exact measurements. I pulled out a not-quite-blue nightgown, stitched with little waves and ocean foam, and slipped into those fuzzy slippers from the night before. Somehow the slippers were warm before I even put them on.

As I pulled on the nightgown, the acorn fell out of my sleeve, hitting the carpeted floor without a noise. I gingerly picked it back up and gave it a quick kiss before securing it in the little locket. It was a bit crowded, what with the die and the pamphlet also in there, but I’d need that acorn. I loved that fucking acorn. That acorn was my savior. If I got to go outside again, I’d have to collect a leaf, something easier to conceal on my body and keep touching me at all times.

I opened the door just enough to slip out and into the hallway. Cara stood in front of my door, startled at my sudden appearance.

“Jordan!” She whispered.

“Cara?”

“Shh! Follow me.”

She lowered the hand from her lips to my hand, pulling me along, down a hallway, down another turn and another and another. I didn’t recognize the wallpaper, a color I couldn’t quite name, or any of the doors. The doors each had something written on them, but I only caught glimpses as Cara hurried me along. 

_ Aysel. Alda. Lyra. Natsuki. Andromeda. Marisol. Estelle. Ruby. Haruhi. Kai. Mary.  _

We stopped in front of a door marked  _ Ai.  _ Cara sucked in a breath, hand shaking as she grasped the knob. She stared at her hand.

“I have no memories of dinner. I remember being in my room, around 9 or so. I left, and I just wandered, and I found this. Hallways, so many hallways, full of old doors and old names. Young girls, probably missing, probably having faced the same fates we surely will. Jordan,  _ what the hell is happening to us?” _

It was as if a wave of numbness had washed over me. My head ached, almost tingling, with something I couldn’t name. Grief? Guilt? 

I wanted to tell her,  tell her what would happen , but my mouth wouldn’t work.

Cara pushed the door open. Moonlight gently illuminated her face, covering the rest of her as the door silently opened more. Cara turned to me, almost smiling. No, she was definitely smiling. Her lips twitched.

“Wanna see what’s inside?” She laughed and rushed in.

“Cara!” I ran in after her. I don’t remember touching the door, but it closed behind me. It was a room, similar to my own, but with a different color scheme that I could not properly tell in the dim lit. I was surprised to find that, on every surface, there was a thick layer of dust. Cara lay on the room’s carpet, looking up at the ceiling.

“Look.”

I tilted my head back.

The ceiling was covered in blood.

“We’re gonna die. I can’t do this, Jordan.”

A heavy cloud passed in front of the moon, plunging the room into darkness.

“Cara, I know what to do. I know how to remember.”

She sat up. “What?”

I popped open the locket. I felt around in the darkness for her hand, clutching it in the sea of carpet. I led her hand to my necklace, to the acorn I cherished so dearly.

“Help me split this in half. Keep it touching you, and he won’t touch your memories.”

Our hands found the edge of the carpet. She slammed the acorn against the wooden floor. The noise was almost startling in the otherwise peaceful room. I think I felt a few stray pieces of shell under my fingers.

After a few minutes, Cara took my hand in hers. She curled my fist closed around half of the acorn. I rubbed the smooth inside.

“Keep it....keep it in your shoe? Between your foot and your sock, when you get dressed tomorrow, and for now just in the slipper.”

Cara squeezed my hand once and followed my instructions. I stuck my half in my slipper as well, wondering what could happen to me in the night. 

“How many days has it been?” Her voice was low. She sounded less scared, more as if she was trying to confirm the facts, set her head straight. 

“We boarded the carriage two days ago. We’ve now spent one full day here.”

The sky cleared up. Dim light returned to the room once more. Cara nodded her head.

“Two days. Two days and we’re already averting death together. I definitely didn’t expect this when I met you.”

“Nor I.”

We sat there for a few moments. I did another quick survey of the room, avoiding the ceiling’s gory scene. I think the room was decorated in pinks, ranging from darker magentas to colors that bordered on white. On top of one of the dressers was a pale pink dress, covered in ruffles and lace.

“What did you do before this?”

The question surprised me. I faced Cara. She was tracing the carpet’s patterns.

“I’ve had a....series of jobs. I never learned a trade, and could never seem to keep a job for more than a year. I’ve been a maid, a potter, a woodcarver, and a shoemaker, to name a few. Jack of all trades, master of none.”

“Better than a master of one.” She grinned. “I had a few different jobs. Mainly, I switched between being a cooper and a printer, as needed. Sometimes I helped out the blacksmith. Everyone wants the big musclegirl.”

She laughed a little. Her face dropped as she spoke again. “Usually they’d call on Meenah. She was so much stronger, but she loved sewing too much to stop for a moment. Sometimes it was all I could do to get her to put the sewing down for dinner.”

“When did you guys meet?” I didn’t expect my voice to be so soft.

“We were half-sisters. I’m a year older. I’m her big sister. Do you have any siblings?”

The carpet looked lovely. “No.”

She placed her hand on mine and tried to look me in the eyes. I met her gaze briefly before my eyes flicked away. “We don’t have to talk about that stuff if you don’t want to. Just tell me.”

“I don’t like thinking about my family. They’re gone. They’ve been gone a while.”

“How old are you?”

“Nineteen.”

“Me too. Summer child.”

“Spring. I was told the grass had finally greened again the day I was born.”

She snorted a little. I laughed with her. I almost forgot where we were, til I felt a warm drop on my hand. It smelled coppery and all too familiar.

“Cara, the ceiling’s bleeding.”

“Oh fuck.”

“We should get out of here. It’s not safe.”

“Nowhere is safe.”

As my hand brushed against the carpet, it left a smear that would’ve been reddish-brown in more light. I tried to get the blood off me before leaving the room. Out in the hallway, with the door closed shut behind us, there was no trace of blood on my hand. Not a stain. 

“What time is it?” I asked as we left the hallway, returning to the part of the house I thought I knew. I couldn’t be sure, considering how many secret rooms liked to appear and disappear around here.,

Cara shrugged. “10:40? 11? No clue how long we’ve been gone.”

“We should go back to our rooms. Try and get some sleep. Remember the acorn.”

She nodded stoically. There was a moment where we did not talk but did not move, simply looked at each other. Finally, Cara pulled me into a tight hug. My breath hitched as I tensed before relaxing, giving in. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d been hugged. It felt so strange.

“I’ll see you in the morning” she murmured in my ear.  
“Yeah” I stuttered back.

She raised two of her fingers to her temple before pushing them towards me in a quick salute. I mimicked her actions and waited a moment, watching her walk down the hallway and slip inside a far-off door. I waited about half a minute, staring at where she’d been, before I entered my own room.


	12. Chapter 12

I still couldn’t get used to being awoken by a maid, an actual maid. I sleepily watched Dorothea pick clothes out of a wardrobe, and raised an arm to protect my eyes from the harsh sunlight. I wondered if the bed was magical. I hadn’t slept so soundly since I was a child.

“Good morning, my Lady. How have you slept? Was the room to your tastes?” Dorothea smiled at the foot of my bed.

“Same as yesterday. All good.”

She smiled wider. “Excellent. Shall we get you bathed and dressed for breakfast, Lady Jordan?”

I felt intense deja vu as she walked me through the same routine as the day before. Today, though, I didn’t wear a fancy green dress, as I had the previous days, or even anything green. Instead, she clothed me in a simple white shift, one with short sleeves and a hem that ended at my knees. She brought out a second pair of slippers, as if I couldn’t just use my nighttime ones.

“Breakfast shall be served later today, my Lady. First, some business must be attended to in the drawing room of the East Wing. This way, please.”

She led me out into the hallway, in time with the other girls. All of them wore similar shifts and slippers. In front of me I saw little Obedience. She flashed me a quick smile before running to catch up with Isabella and Tova.

My head pounded.

Dorothea led us down the stairs and through a hallway, to the right of the dining hall and its imposing doors. We went to almost the end of the hallway before stopping in front of some pale blue double doors to the left. Dorothea waited till we were all gathered before speaking.

“Please arrange yourselves in alphabetical order, by first name.”

We all shuffled around, exchanging names and few other words. I ended up being almost squarely in the middle. I wondered if Billy was actually Billy’s real name, as she was up there right behind Althea. Cara briefly met my eyes as she stood behind them. I noticed that Janine, who should have been in front of me, was absent.

One by one, Dorothea called each girl forward. She would flicker for a bit as a double of herself appeared to lead the selected girl through the doors. I could catch only a few glimpses of the room’s interior-- large vertical windows, perhaps a bed or two. Lots of natural light that almost blinded me each time the doors were opened. None of the girls came out, and each time the doors opened there seemed to be no one inside.

“Jordan?”

I stepped forwards. She took my arm and led me through the door. I blinked spots of light from my vision. Dorothea sat me on what seemed to be, once my eyes had fully cleared up, a plain white bed. She approached me with a folder, and medical uniform, complete with a white surgical mask, apron, and pockets full of various tools. I saw some pens, bandages, and scalpels poking out.

“Today I need to perform a series of medical tests on you, my Lady. Once we have finished, you may go to breakfast. Shall we start by taking your blood pressure?”

“Uh, s-sure?” I paled a bit at the scalpels. I eyed her as she moved forward.

She took my vitals, measurements, and weight. With each part I completed, she gave me a congratulatory smile and comment. “Good job, my Lady”, “you are doing fantastic, Lady Jordan”, or “wonderful, my Lady”, to name a few of the phrases she parroted. 

The room didn’t seem like an actual drawing room, or at least the ones I was acquainted with (a small number indeed). It was filled with medical equipment, such as a scale and IVs, stationed by a bathroom and next to the bed I was on. There were two other beds, similarly plain. Next to the doors I’d come through was a stone brick fireplace, crackling with flames though the sunlight suggested it was a warm and bright day. 

I tried to peer outside the window and see what the house’s surroundings looked like, but kept getting distracted by the medical tests. What little I could catch with my short glances was obscured by the glass, which seemed frosted. All I made out was the colors-- light green, darker green, some brown, and a bright blue.

“This is the last step, my Lady. I need to draw blood and collect a swab of saliva, Lady Jordan.”

Oh. That’s why it was called the drawing room.

She stuck a cotton swab in my mouth and swirled it about before sticking it in a tube and capping it off. Well, there was the easy part. I felt suspicious as to why they-- Mr. Argyle and his servants-- wanted my blood. Dorothea extended my arm and rubbed a spot with an alcohol-soaked cloth. 

It was over in a few moments. I watched her take the syringe of blood into the bathroom-- I actually wasn’t sure if it was a bathroom or just a side room, but it had a tiled floor and I could view a sink inside. She returned and bandaged my arm, smiling just as always as she helped me to my feet.

“Shall we go to breakfast, Lady Jordan?”

I nodded. She led me to a door that I hadn’t seen before. It was small and blue, darker than the ones I’d come through. If I had the house’s dimensions correct, which I almost certainly didn’t, it would’ve led into a room I hadn’t seen before. Even with this knowledge, I had a dark feeling. For some reason, I firmly believed that door led into the dining hall, into that cursed room where the clocks screamed and whispered six o’clock.

Now that I thought of it, they never chimed any other hours. Only six o’clock. Only when Mr. Argyle appeared.

Dorothea opened the door and led me through. I had to bend down slightly to step through it. It felt off. All the doors here were large and grand. This tiny door, almost the same color as the walls, hadn’t even been noticeable.

I stepped through and

“Oh, Rill, how have you been?”


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry about posting a few hours late-- i was out at dinner. I will always update!

I was in that same small room where I’d originally met Eudoxia. Dorothea was gone-- it was just us two, as he wrinkled his face with a smile. He took my face in his hands, poking my nose and stretching my cheeks. He ruffled my hair a little before he spoke.

“We do need to chat, dear. Assume the form of Rill, will you?” He laughed a little and held his hands tight when he realized his accidental rhyme.

I tried to put myself into the same mindset as I had before. I was not Jordan. I was Rill, the quiet farmhand. In my head I constructed a faded image of an endless yellow field, bordered only by high mountains, blue in the distance. The wheat brushed against my legs, thankfully covered with thick overalls. There wasn't a cloud in the sky. just the sun, something I'd consider harsh if I didn't have my wide-brimmed hat.

There was movement, under the wheat, on the ground. I brushed back a few stalks and bent down. It was a little brown mouse. It looked so soft. I reached out to stroke its back, but it moved away. I got on my knees and moved forward, arm extended to brush at it. The mouse scurried away. I rose and--

"I'm here, Eudoxia."

“That wasn’t your farm, was it? You pictured something very different, yet it was still you. You’re still Rill.”

"Moira’s house is surrounded by fields of wheat. She lives across the mountains." I wondered how Eudoxia had seen my thoughts, my memories.

"Interesting. Well-" he put his hands on my shoulders. "Shall we get to it? We are safe today-- the owl won't be at breakfast, just the Maid. He's away on business. Was the other you awake at dinner?"

I nodded. "Won't D- the Maid notice my absence?"

“No, no need to worry. It’s....well, the Maid works in a bit of a complicated manner, but imagine that I took a copy of her and will be rewriting it before merging it with the rest, and shall do so before the Owl returns. If he tries to check her memories, he won’t see this because it will have been written over.”

"What is she?"

Eudoxia laughed a little at the question. “I, nor the other me, am not entirely sure. Perhaps an artificial being, given her inability to answer more complex questions. Though, that could easily be explained by a being unused to these dimensions. You nor the other you have absolutely _no_ clue how hard it is to convert a two-dimensional being to this world.”

My head swam a little. I wondered why Mr. Argyle was gone, and thought of the previous night's dinner.

"Eudoxia, are there truly non-humans among us, the us of the other me and the others the Owl brought?"

“Among the girls? Not necessarily non-humans, just not of this world, though neither I nor the other me can be sure. People who aren’t supposed to be on this iteration of the Earth specifically. Are you thinking of the....”

He paused. “Let us, and the other us, call her Alien 1. Alien 1 is almost certainly not human, or perhaps not entirely human. The other me and the Sir were inquiring as to her origins earlier today and yesterday. The medical tests today are a consequence of her discovery.”

Eudoxia suddenly turned serious, head cocked and voice low. “Rill, are you and the other you human? Does the other you belong in this universe?”

I shrugged. "As far as we know, yes. I've no reason to think otherwise, and the other me doesn't have any reason to either."

"Where did you-- the other you, that is-- grow up?"

"The mountains." I thought of the pretty green hills, the mountain slopes topped with snow and ice. There had been a lake, perfect for fishing, and the house. A small house in the middle of the wilderness.

"Interesting."

"You say that a lot."

“Interesting? Yes, it’s an interesting word, one with many uses.” He laughed and ruffled my hair again. “Always good to be curious, yes? Now, onto serious business, Rill.”

Eudoxia led me to a small wooden desk. He sat me down in a simple chair and leaned over my shoulder, flipping through a large red tome on the desk. My eyes widened.

_Jordan 221892CE+1AD 1.0085812734: “I don’t like thinking about my family. They’re gone. They’ve been gone for a while.” 22:28:46_

_Cara 761892CE0BC 1.0259678342: “How old are you?” 22:30:12_

_Jordan 221892CE+1AD 1.0085812734: “Nineteen.” 22:30:56_

_Cara 761892CE0BC 1.0259678342: “Me too. Summer child.” 22:31:27_

_Jordan 221892CE+1AD 1.0085812734: “Spring. I was told the grass had finally greened again the day I was born.” 22:32:05_

He closed the passage before I could read any more. Eudoxia squeezed the bridge of his nose as I turned around. _Stupid stupid stupid. Of course they’d be listening to the other me._

“Rill, there is no safe way to talk to the others here. We are of different minds. The other me could talk freely if he wished to, for the Owl has never spied on the other me before, but that could easily change. As for the other you and the others-- they are prey. Of course he is recording what they say. Of course he could check and see that the other you had told that girl about the acorn, that the other you had given her one. Rill, the other you could have easily ruined all of this.

“The other me will rewrite this, Rill, but with each rewrite the other me risks a mistake, risks being discovered. If so, the other you is doomed. Stay in line, and the other you will survive. The other you’s friend, she cannot survive. The Owl will surely devour her. Be glad that the other you has a chance at living. Don’t let the other you ruin it.”

I, I Rill, knew Jordan felt a connection to Cara. I Rill knew they had bonded in this treacherous place. I Rill knew there was some strong loyalty, a desperate need for a companion who was undergoing the same horrible experience. I Rill knew Jordan would be outraged, angry at Eudoxia's words, insist on Cara being saved. I Rill took a deep breath.

"Eudoxia, can I switch with the other me? Can I take their place?"


	14. Chapter 14

“Rill, you can’t do this. You....” Eudoxia paused to sigh and bring a hand over his eyes. “The Owl would know. He’d discover you and your plan. It would only take a day, perhaps two depending on your luck.”

"What do you mean?"

Eudoxia motioned for me to follow him. He brought me to the wash basin, the one I’d used last time I was there. On the wall was a large oval object, covered with a white cloth. Eudoxia tugged it off.

_ Oh. _

These weren't Jordan's eyes. One of them was, one of them was the usual shade of brown they knew, but that one-- that eye was mine. It was still mostly brown, but I could see the green specks, by the center of the eye.

I examined my\-- Jordan's-- hands.

“Their fingers are longer than they naturally are. Their hair is going darker, curlier. Take a look, Rill. If you stay you long enough, this body will stop being the other you’s body. You will appear as Rill, as you appear in your home universe. You _can’t_ just take the other you’s position and persona.”

"I can do it. I can do it. how long would it take, Eudoxia? How long would it take for anyone to notice?"

"Rill, _no_. We-- this me and this you-- aren't doing this--"

" _Tell. Me. "_ I gritted my teeth. Were they mine? Were some of them mine? I ground them a little, wondering if I'd be able to tell the difference.

Eudoxia must’ve seen something in these eyes. He huffed and gave the body a once-over before speaking.

“A day, maybe two. With practice....with practice it could become easier to extend the transition. You could possibly do so indefinitely. At this stage, you’d need to turn back into the other you routinely, relinquish control of the body.”

"And then how long until I could come back?"

“Not long. This body is meant to belong to the other you. It would revert to that state, that blueprint, very quickly. Rill, the other you would be so enraged. They’d never let you be in control again.”

"They don’t have to let me. I can take control back."

Eudoxia didn't say anything. He stared at me with....was that disgust in his eyes? How interesting. He looked like I made him want to vomit. How _interesting_.

"How _dare_ you. An alternate self must be trusted by their host. Alternates are, they're-- they're a bond that transcends _universes_ , transcends realities! It's sacred. I-It's....Rill, don't do this." His voice, full of gravitas at the beginning, faltered.

I walked over to the door, the same plain door that was in the room last time I'd visited. My hand curled around the handle before Eudoxia cried out.

"Wait!

I didn't move.

“Rill, please. Don’t. I can’t do anything to stop you, nor do I wish to. The same is true for the other me as well. We want you and the other you to survive. We’ve seen so many girls die, Rill. All we want is a survivor, someone to stop this.”

"I can do this. I'm not attached to any of these people. I can do what needs to be done. I can survive."

I stepped through the door.


	15. Chapter 15

I was at breakfast. It was the solarium, the same one Jordan had been in, lavishly set up in the same manner as the day before. I was already seated in a chair at the table, as if nothing had happened. There were no placards, as there had been last time. I sat between Esther and Harriette, who did not react to Jordan’s sudden appearance, and instead reached for various pitchers and plates of pancakes, croissants, and omelettes. I loaded Jordan's plate with warm rye bread, turkey bacon, mushrooms, and potatoes, and poured a glass of milk.

I did a quick survey of the table. Most people talked among themselves, idle chatter about the beauty of the mansion or how expensive the meals must be. As with each meal where Mr. Argyle was absent, the girls seemed more lively, instead of being in some dreamlike trance.

Cara tried to make eye contact with me from her place further down the table. I fixed myself on my food, and on the missing chair. There should have been thirteen people here. Janine was absent. I reflected on Eudoxia's words. Janine was why the girls and Jordan had to undergo those medical test. I wondered if there was an easier way to tell which of them belonged here.

After some time, Dorothea appeared in the room, slowly flickering into being next to one of the glass walls. She was a strange woman. Strange being. I wondered if she was an automaton. I'd seen a few before, even if this was another world. Her skin seemed realistic enough from where I sat.

“Breakfast is ended, my Ladies. You may each return to your rooms and change before choosing where to spend your afternoons in the house. Mr. Argyle is away on business, and shall not return in time for dinner.”

I wondered if she didn’t fully speak the language, or if the word “afternoons” meant something more. Couldn’t be too careful with these folk. Either way, I was glad to get out of this shift and into something more concealing, more....

As Dorothea split into many different selves, each meant to escort us to our rooms, I took a glance at Jordan's hands. The fingers were wonky, but not too much. I would put on a long dress, perhaps add in some gloves. Nobles wore gloves, yeah? I didn't really know, unless I tried to peek more into Jordan's memories. It would serve them right for peeking into mine.

Back in Jordan's room, Dorothea asked if I wanted anything. I shook their head no and waited to hear the door click before I brought the pamphlet out of Jordan's locket. I locked the door, moved into the bathroom, and locked them in there before gently blowing on the spine. I didn't care to squint at the pages, and instead waited for them to grow larger.

 _Summoning of Alternates._ I flipped to the page number listed in the index. The emerald ink greeted me, words changing at my touch.

_Hello Rill._

I chuckled. This was new.

_Please put down the book._

My fingers tightened. I shut the pamphlet tight, and breathed deeply before blowing against the spine and stuffing it back inside the locket. Fine. Fine then. The talking book didn't want to cooperate, well I wouldn't sweet talk it I doubted I could, anyway.

I changed into a long dress-- green of course\-- with little flowery designs adorning it and left the room. I half expected Eudoxia to try and transport Jordan back to his room, as if he could persuade me to do anything. Maybe he was the one behind the pamphlet. I looked at their hands, and decided I'd change back into Jordan after dinner. Let them out for an hour or two and then switch back.

For now, I was going to the library. The library had to have what I wanted, it was a giant library belonging to some otherworldly being of course it'd be full of info. I pushed my way through the door and was greeted by the same seemingly-endless room Jordan had seen. I slowly raised their eyes to the ceiling's mural. I gripped the railing and dug their heel into the acorn in their shoe.

The ceiling was different. Or, maybe it seemed different now that Jordan had the acorn. Either way, there were no painted scenes of humanity and strange beings on the ceiling. Just a plain ceiling. Any trace of the murals was gone.

Save for the purple goo that noiselessly fell onto Jordan's hand. It was sticky, like sap, and burned a little as it made contact with the skin. There was a small collection of it in one part of the ceiling, but it seemed small and almost dried up, as if it'd been there a while. I brushed the sap off their hand and continued down the staircase.

The long bookshelves were like a maze, all unmarked and nearly identical. I thought about Hansel and Gretel, wondering if I could get lost in these stacks. The further I went, the darker and narrower they became. I scanned the volumes on the shelves, trying to find what I was looking for.

I soon found at least one piece of the puzzle. In between a book on fattening recipes and something titled _The Etumi Dumu_ \-- it was a book on automatons, though they were called something different-- many something differents. The book was titled _Artificial Lifeforms_ , but a sea of words swam over the cover. _Robot. Golem. Homunculus. Tulpa._ I pulled the book out and padded back to the center of the library, back to the light. I flipped open the book.

"Jordan?"

 _Fuck._ I slammed the book closed. I looked up, expecting to see Cara, but was instead faced by....Althea? Was that her name? A blond woman in a blue dress-- yep, definitely her. Mr. Argyle's weird system sure made it easy to tell people apart.

"Althea, hi." I tucked the book under one of Jordan's arms. I tilted their head down, noticing how much shorter Althea was than Cara.

"Are you looking for something?"

"I mean, yeah, a book. That's why I'm here, in the library."

Althea wrinkled her nose. I half-expected her to put her hands on her hips and glare at me with those gray eyes. "No need to be rude. _I_ actually know what I'm doing in this library. This sorting system wouldn't make sense to _you_."

I cocked an eyebrow. _Bitch_. "Oh really?"

She started walking away before looking over her shoulder and calling back. "Well? Are you coming?"

I sighed before complying. She led Jordan back up the staircase, up and up the different stairs to a red-carpeted balcony near the ceiling. There were a few bookshelves here, but tucked between them was a series of tubes with fogged blue glass. On each was a metal latch that could be pulled back to open the tube. Althea firmly planted her foot on the tube before straining to open it.

It popped open with a satisfying hiss as steam released. The little cloud soon cleared, and I was left staring at a humanoid figure. They had olive skin, a shaved head, and wore a blue uniform. Their eyes were closed, but they had a serene smile on their face.

"What the hell?"

Althea ignored me as she placed a finger on the figure's exposed wrist. Their eyes slid open, a green stare into nothingness. Their voice was cool and even.

"Hello. How may I help you? I am well-versed in Physics, Astronomy, Interior Decorating, and Chemistry. I may also serve as a basic guide."

Althea turned back to me. "What did you want?"

"Uh, a bunch of stuff. Anything on automatons?"

Althea turned back to the figure. She examined the tube before speaking. "Information Body Daled, find any books on 'automatons.'"

Information Body Daled rose from their tube. I wondered if they were an automaton as well. Their face was neutral as they strode down the staircase, picking books off the shelves at various floors. Althea and I settled down at a table on the bottom level. After bringing over a dozen or so volumes, Information Body Daled stood expectantly next to us.

"May I be of any further service?"

"Any books on alternates? As in, alternate versions of one's self?"

Information Body Daled walked off. Althea was now the one looking expectantly at me.

"What?"

"'Automatons?' 'Alternates?' What exactly _are_ you doing?"

"Just some light reading."

She laughed. It sounded like a cross between a hyena and a hog, though my own laugh wasn't much better. Althea wiped a tear from her eye as she calmed down.

"Wow, someone with decent humor. Now, what are you _really_ up to?"

Althea's voice grated on the ears. She sounded like a bitch with a stick in her ass. What was _she_ doing here?

"reading. Now, what the fuck's up with 'Daled?'"

She rolled her eyes. "They're an information body, dimwit. A being who holds information and lives in a library. What the name says."

"J-" I stopped. "I've been to libraries, yeah? Never seen one of those."

Althea's prideful expression dropped for a split second. It was as if she'd realized she'd made an error. She recomposed herself before answering.

"Not the better libraries, then. I-I would wager that the others in this mansion are familiar with information bodies."

"Now, why are _you_ here, Althea?"

"Reading."

"I see."

Althea huffed. "What is it you see--"

Information Body Daled returned to the table, cutting Althea off. They gently placed a stack of books before walking off, back to their task. Althea watched them go before speaking again.

"What do you mean 'I see?'"

"You're hiding something."

"And you're not?"

This was a battle of minds, and Althea was already losing. I'd show her who was a fucking dimwit. Daled approached the table again.

"May I be of any further service?

"Any books on interdimensional travel or other universes?"

Daled walked off. I smirked internally as Althea's face blanched. I was making a dangerous bet, but I sure was a gambler-- what else was there to do when you lived in the middle of farmland and had less friends than digits? I lowered Jordan's voice.

"You think you're so sly, don't ya? I can see right through you, Althea. You don't belong here."

Althea rose from her seat, a cloud of pale blue fabric and bright red face. "I have no idea what you're talking about. Don't say such slander!"

I couldn't hold it in any longer. Jordan was honest-to-God smirking as I rested their chin on their fist. "Say what?"

"Y-you know! Don't do this, Jordan."

She looked desperate. Holy shit was she crying? _How did I break this girl so quickly?_

__

"I won't say anything for now, but I want answers. Where--"

__

Daled returned to the table with a few books. "May I be of any further assistance?"

__

Althea wiped her face before answering. "Any writing paper and pens?"

__

Daled was back in only a few moments. They placed the papers and pens on the table. "May I be of any further assistance?"

__

"No. Return to your tube."

__

"Thank you." Daled walked off, back up the staircase till they were out of sight. Althea waited a few moments before gesturing to the paper. She must've known that we were being watched, our words recorded.

__

I picked up a pen and began writing, paper angled so she could see from her seat. _Where are you from?_

__

She grabbed another paper and pen. _Another universe. A different version of Earth._

__

_Why did you come here?_

__

_He's killed too many people._

__

_He?_

__

_Don't write his name. It's almost as bad as speaking it._

__

I looked up at Althea. Her eyes were like a storm. I saw a flash of lightning in them. Then another. Holy crap her eyes were a storm.

__

_How many people has he killed?_

__

_Thousands. Maybe more. My sister was supposed to come here and stop him. I took her place._

__

Well, that explained why she was so bad at this. _What are you?_

__

_Ilvihedi. Not your species. Don't tell._

__

_They did medical tests. Won't that reveal this?_

__

_I don't know. Maybe. He won't be back until tomorrow. I have time._

__

_What's your plan?_

__

_Kill him. With a knife from the kitchen._

__

I didn't even bother writing. "You think that'll work? Are you serious?"

__

Althea gnawed on her lip, but then put a hand to her mouth, as if to stop herself. She brushed her hair back. "Maybe. Don't stop me."

__

I returned to the paper. _Do you remember everything?_

__

She tapped the front of her dress. _Rose petal. Do you know what that means?_

__

_Yes. Acorn in my shoe._

__

_How did you know?_

__

As if I'd tell her. _Books. Library._

__

Althea put two fingers to her temple and tapped twice, as if just remembering this fact. _Smart. Anything else to say?_

__

_If you get caught leave me out of it._

__

She nodded. Suddenly, she grabbed both sheets of paper and crumpled them up into one mass. She stared intently at the papers, hands clutching them tightly. Her hands....were sparking? Sparks of electricity flew onto the paper till it was on fire. She held the burning pile in her hands, calm and unmoving as if the fire did nothing to her. Soon it was only a pile of ash in her hands.

__

She tipped her head back and swallowed the ash. She wiped dust off her lips, eyes full of wind and rain.

__

"Pleasure talking to you, Jordan."

__

"And you, Althea."

__

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Man, I really love Althea! She's a fun character.


	16. Chapter 16

I spent the afternoon examining the many books Daled had brought me. Most of them only included brief references to alternates, automatons, and other universes-- so, overall, useless. I did find something interesting, though-- useful information about alternate universes.

For the most part, one couldn't physically cross between other universes. Mentally, yes-- that's how I, Rill, was here, in this universe. To move a whole body though was another task, one that involved a few strange methods. One could enter an in-between region, leave the multiverse entirely, find a window to another universe, or make one such window. With what little materials I had, making another window sounded most plausible. Ha. _As if I could just punch a hole in the universe_.

Was I planning to save Jordan by bringing them to another universe? Maybe. Mr. Argyle wasn't one to mess with, and the book didn't feel like cooperating. They could be safe in another universe, maybe mine. Perhaps Jordan would like the farm. I could imagine them, lying on a nice hill, just like when they were younger and--

 _Stop_. I pinched their cheek and brought myself out of that. I couldn't afford to dive into their memories. I couldn't afford to lose my control. I focused on what the book said as I walked back to Jordan's room.

A window. A window to another universe. Making one involved the use of "ancient" languages. The builder of the window had to be able to decode these languages to designate where the window would go, and to get it to work in the first place. There had been some long chapter about the origin of language, and what languages would be classified as "ancient." It didn't matter if no one spoke them-- what mattered was how close they were to a species's beginning languages, and some metaphysical factor that I couldn't seem to understand.

As far as physical materials, they could be anything readily available. Water, grass, even the air itself if one could learn how to "sculpt" it. One gruesome diagram showed a window made out of corpses I couldn't tell if they were wild animals or people.

I was at my door. Dorothea stood outside, smiling widely as she watched me approach. "Good evening, my Lady. It is currently 4:46 P.M. Shall I bathe you in preparation for dinner?"

Jordan's stomach growled. I'd forgotten about lunch. "Yeah, sure."

Dorothea followed me inside. After the bath, she helped me into a knee-length (green) dress. I examined Jordan in the mirror. Their hair had darkened considerably more. It seemed shorter, too, curling back onto itself to look more like the dark curls my actual body sported. I had no choice. I had to give them their body back after dinner.

"It is 5:54 P.M., my Lady. Shall we head downstairs?"

We went out into the hallway, in step with the other girls and other Dorotheas. Dorothea's copies disappeared, and she appeared by the stairs.

"This way, please." She led us down the stairs, down to the big black doors. I dug Jordan's heel into the acorn, just in case, as Dorothea pushed the doors open.

I walked down to Jordan's seat. There was still a seat, where Hariette and then Tabitha would've sat, but no name card said who should be there It was just empty. I eyed Obedience, in a long sunny dress.

Cara tried to meet Jordan's eyes. I waited for 6 P.M. to overtake us.

The clocks chimed, all of them at once. The door didn't open. The clocks chimed and chimed and chimed and then they stopped. Mr. Argyle did not appear. We were safe.

Dorothea went about the table, taking the tops off various platters and pots. It was a feast, like all other nights, save for the threat of death that normally loomed over us. God, I was getting way too poetic about this.

Althea began talking to me as she grabbed a warm bun. Her voice was a strange cross between cheerful and her usual aloof self. "Did you find what you needed?"

"Oh, some of it. Probably gonna go back after dinner."

"I suppose I should wish you good luck with that." Her fingers tightened around her knife as she slathered butter all over the bun.

"Do you need help?"

"No. I'm absolutely _fine_." Althea gritted her teeth and glanced around the table.

"Why does that person keep looking at you?" She subtly gestured towards Cara.

"Jo-- I know her. We were in the same carriage, and were friends. I've been too busy to talk to her, so I guess she's wondering what's up."

"Hm. Best not to have attachments. They turn into weaknesses."

"And what about your sister?"

Althea chewed on her lip, simply staring at me for a moment. She turned back to her food. I internally rolled my-- Jordan's?-- my eyes and reached for another helping of stew.

Most of dinner went similarly. Althea and I didn't talk much, mostly small talk about the mansion. Our conversation was full of secrets-- she seemed tense about something, though she wouldn't tell me what. Dinner was replaced with dessert, and the night continued.

It was half past eight when the clocks struck six o'clock. They screamed and whispered all together, an unearthly sound that ripped at my ears. He was here. He was here. The doors flung open and he strode in, around the table, voice booming though I didn't see his mouth move, as if I'd be able to make it out.

"Althea, Althea, Althea."

No, his voice wasn't booming. It was a normal volume, but somehow it filled everything. I clutched at my ears.

"Althea, Althea, Althea."

I turned towards Althea, my heart pounding. She whirled about, eyes settling on Mr. Argyle as he stalked around the table. She reached under her dress and pulled out a large knife.

"Althea, Althea, _Althea_ , did you really think you could hide?"

I don't know how he made it to us so fast. Suddenly there he was, the large man behind me, fingers strumming on the back of my chair as he looked over at Althea. I stared straight ahead at the dinner table, almost shivering. I didn't see his face, but as my eyes drifted over to Althea's I could see horror in her eyes. True horror.

"There's a good girl. Smile for me, ilvihedi."

Her face, as if not of her own accord, slowly split into an exaggerated smile. Her entire body shook. She was barely keeping her grip on the knife.

"Did you really think you could kill me? And with a knife, of all things?" He chuckled. It was deep and dark and monstrous. He made my spine chill.

Mr. Argyle's fingers moved over the back of my chair. They drummed and drummed and stopped. With the back of one finger, he stroked one of my-- _my--_ curls.

His hand was gone-- suddenly he was on the other side of Althea's chair. Althea was in the air, arm hanging loosely from Mr. Argyle's fist. He raised her higher into the air, jaws reaching down to clamp around her neck. Blood dribbled down her pale blue dress. The knife slipped from between her lifeless fingers.

I screamed. I screamed. I screamed. I screamed. I screamed. I screamed. I screamed. I screamed. I screamed. I screamed. I screamed. I screamed. I screamed. I screamed. I screamed. I screamed. I screamed. I screamed. I screamed. I screamed. I screamed. I screamed. I screamed. I screamed. I screamed. I screamed. I screamed. I screamed. I screamed. I screamed. I screamed. I screamed. I screamed. I screamed. I screamed. I screamed. I screamed. I screamed. I screamed. I screamed. I screamed. I screamed. I screamed. I screamed. I screamed. I screamed. I screamed. I screamed. I screamed. I screamed. I screamed. I screamed. I screamed. I screamed. I screamed. I screamed. I screamed. I screamed. I screamed. I screamed. I screamed. I screamed. I screamed. I screamed. I screamed. I screamed. I screamed. I screamed. I screamed. I screamed. I screamed. I screamed. I screamed. I screamed. I screamed. I screamed. I screamed. I screamed. I screamed. I screamed. I screamed. I screamed-

_"Quiet."_


	17. Chapter 17

I wasn’t....there....any more. I wasn’t anywhere, at least not anywhere real. It was winter, a cold one with snow piled high above my head, nearly blocking out the white sun. It was almost impossible to wade through the areas where the snow met me at my waist. As for the tall snowbanks, I tunneled through them. Little tunnels that only I could fit through, tunnels that should’ve collapsed but, somehow, were kept stable by the thick layers of snow and ice all around me.

I crawled inside one of the tunnels. The light behind me faded. I was surrounded only by blue and white. The tunnel became wreathed in more shadows with each inch I crawled, till I was blindly feeling my way through the snow. I forget how long I made this tunnel. Where did it end?

My hands in their little mittens, already soaking through as I scrabbled at the snow, felt a few pathways ahead me. One to the right, one to the left, and one just ahead. I didn’t know where they each went. I waited, but there was nothing. No wind, no faint noise, no twinkling of distant light. I went ahead.

The tunnel seemed to narrow. My shoulders brushed up against the walls, further and further till I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t continue. I tried to turn around, but there was no room. I tried backing up, and my hat scraped against the ceiling. There was something-- not a noise, but a deep vibration. I waited, half-upright in the tunnel. I cocked my head, and felt a drop of cold snow hit my neck.

I looked up. The snow fell on me. The ceiling was collapsing. I coughed some of the snow out of my lungs, the remainder slowly melting and chilling my entire body. I gasped, breaths quickening as more and more snow dropped onto me. I couldn’t see the surface, just more and more snow burying me, an impossibly endless amount. A large chunk of ice fell onto my arm, pinning it as I cried out. I-

I was back at the pathway. I was okay. I was fine. I went to the left. My fingers dug into the ice through the mittens.

This tunnel was twistier than the other. A turn here, a turn there, something labyrinthine. When had I made this? When had this happened? What day was it of this endless winter?

There was a light up ahead. I saw it, I  _ saw  _ it! A light, a  _ light _ ! I pulled myself towards the exit, faster and faster. I laughed as my head burst out of the snow-- I was at the top of a snowbank. I struggled to pull myself out-- my foot seemed to hook against the ceiling, a little dip that caught on the boot. I heard a growl.

It was behind me. I could already feel its hot breath. The footsteps were muffled by snow, but I knew it was nearing. I turned, and there were fangs in my eyes. I screamed as my eyes tore out of my head, teeth digging at my eye sockets, blood welling. I couldn’t see, I couldn’t--

I was back at the pathway. I was okay. I was fine. I went to the right. My breath came out short and quick.

This tunnel went up and down, as if avoiding some unknown obstacles deep under the surface. There was never a level moment-- I’d make my way over the crest of the tunnel, just to have to go down and down and then up and up again. It felt like I was crawling up and down the stories of each building in an underground city. I had to go slow to stop myself from tumbling when the slopes became steeper.

“Jordan?”

Distant. So distant. So quiet.

“Jordan?”

Just a bit louder. Just a bit. Keep calling. I’ll be there soon. I promise. I wanna come home.

“Jordan?”

Why was it getting quieter?

“Jordan?”

Who are you?

“Jordan?”

They were only a whisper.

“Jordan?”

They were gone. 

I rose over another slope, and the world shifted. I don’t know how, but I was there. I was at the forking paths again. The secret tunnels in the snow. The impossible tunnels in the snow.

_ Jordan? _

Who are you? Why are you calling my name?

_ Jordan? _

I couldn’t speak. I opened my mouth, but not a sound came out. My head whipped about, trying to find the noise, but I moved almost in slow motion.

_ You won’t survive like this, River Kid _ .

It wasn’t a noise.

_ You need to act. You need to trick him. _

I turned around, back towards the entrance.

_ This is a memory. You’ll be back there soon. _

The way out. The way out.

_ You need to trick the Wolf. You know how to. _

I slipped a bit on an icy patch. I forged forwards.

_ He underestimates you. You can do so much. _

The shadows were vanishing. The shadows were leaving.

_ You have everything you need. The book. Your life. _

There was a change in the snow under me. It was more melted by the entrance, where the sun had been hitting it for hours upon hours. I tried to find purchase as I continued.

_ Goodbye Jordan. I love you. Good luck. I’m so sorry. _

\----

I was crying. I could feel the hot tears staining my cheeks red. I tried to wipe them away, but they wouldn’t stop coming. Were they tears of anger? Of sadness? Of joy?

_ Who was that? _

I was in my bed. Wait, it was my  _ bed _ . I was  _ home _ . I wasn’t at Mr. Argyle’s estate, I was home. It was my bedroom, from when I was a child. The same delicately-carved wooden headboard, the same green patchwork quilt. The sun filtered through the window on the far right, the same window I loved to trace with my finger when the frost formed patterns in the night. There was the chair in the corner, someone asleep in it. His loafers met the floor at odd angles, as if he hadn’t meant to fall asleep.

Dad.

I squinted, but the rays of sunlight obscured his face. I saw the thick hair I shared with him, though darker. I saw his tie hanging loosely, his suit wrinkled. He looked weary.

“Darling, let your father sleep.” 

It was my mother, her voice warm like the hearth she always kept lit, coming from her place in the doorway. She smiled, and gestured to me with a hand. She wore her apron, as if she’d just been cooking.

I pushed back the covers, but as soon as my foot touched the ground the world tilted, faster than I could comprehend. My mother’s face blurred, though she remained motionless. My father didn’t rise from his chair, but I heard his echoing footsteps nonetheless. I couldn’t see them, but the room was filled with the ghosts of days past and days to come. My mother folding the sheets, my father chuckling. 

The window, smashed open, snow and icy wind blowing around the shards that still clung to the panes. The chair, toppled with one leg broken. The quilt was thrown aside, into the corner by the door.

**“WHERE ARE THEY? WHAT DID YOU DO?”**

I was paralyzed. I couldn’t move.

**“WHAT DID YOU DO WITH MY CHILDREN?”**

The world tilted. I fell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm glad to be back in business. :)


	18. Chapter 18

I pinched myself in the bed. I was awake. I was awake this time, really. This was the bed in my room at Mr. Argyle’s estate. I was awake, and I was  _ me _ . I couldn’t feel Rill. I didn’t know if they were back in their universe, or lingering in the back of my mind, or....

I’d experienced Rill’s memories in my body as they’d happened, but now I had to go through them and analyze them, pick apart what had happened. I was no longer in my dress from last night’s-- was it really only a few hours ago?-- dinner. I wore only a white nightgown and my locket as I lay under the covers.

_ The acorn. _

I bolted out of bed, rushing to the wardrobe where Dorothea tended to tuck the shoes away. The wood smacked against my hand as I flung it open. The shoes were there. I shoved my hand into the right shoe and--

Nothing.

No acorn.

Oh.

My hand fell loosely to the side. I stood shakily, realizing how exhausted and hungry I felt. My throat was a furnace, burning and dry. There was a little tray on the table, bearing a few different covered platters, bowls, and glasses. I sat down and uncovered them, treating myself to a nice matzo ball soup and roast beef sandwich with a glass of.... I’d never had a name for it as a kid. I just called it the cherry fizz. A dark reddish-brown drink that popped with little bubbles. It sent tingles up my nose as I drank it.

There was a note on the tray, folded under a little golden bell. I wondered how long this tray had been here-- the food was still hot and the cherry fizz perfectly warm, as if they’d only been put out moments before I woke up.

_ Please ring the bell when you awaken, my Lady. _

I finished my bite and rang the bell. It made a clear sound, something unnatural that seemed as if it could carry over great distances. Indeed it must have-- I heard a knock at my door only moments after I rang.

“May I enter, Lady Jordan?”

I opened the door, and Dorothea stepped inside with a curtsy. She closed the door behind her and brought out a small black bag.

“Would you please care to sit on the edge of your bed, my Lady? You’ve been sick the last four days, and Mr. Argyle would like to be assured of your health.”

Four days? I’d been asleep for four days? 

Althea had died four days ago?

What had happened in my absence?

I took another sip and complied, bouncing a bit as I plopped down on the bed. Dorothea first placed a hand to my forehead, as if feeling for a fever. She moved on to taking my blood pressure, listening to my heartbeat, and examining my eyes-- other than the bloodwork and measurements, it was almost exactly like when she’d performed the medical tests on each of us. That’d been four days ago, too.

She placed the tools back inside her bag and closed it with a metallic snapping sound. “It seems you are in perfect health, my Lady. Is there any way I may assist you? It is currently 2:37, and I shall return after 4:30 to help you prepare for dinner.”

“You said I was sick? How so?”

Dorothea paused. She smiled, but seemed unsure as to how to answer the question. “Yes, my Lady.”

I suppose that was a lie then. All I remembered from before I blacked out was hearing Mr. Argyle-- he told me to  _ quiet _ , and suddenly I was, suddenly the whole world had gone quiet, and my mind shut off. My eyes searched Dorothea’s impeccable uniform as I carefully phrased my words.

“Did I have a fever?”

“No, my Lady.”

“Was I vomiting? Did I have the chills?”

“No, my Lady.”

“Was I injured? Did I have coughing fits? Was I sneezing?”

“No, my Lady.”

“So I was not injured or ill?”

Dorothea paused. She smiled, but seemed unsure as to how to answer the question. “You have been sick the past four days, my Lady. You are much better now.”

I took a deep breath and abandoned that line of questioning. “What’s happened over the past few days? With the others, I mean?”

“The other Ladies?”

“Yes.”

Dorothea began clearing away the dishes. “Four days ago, the Ladies occupied most of the day with relaxation and their own activities. Three days ago, the Ladies were introduced to Dina, Mr. Argyle’s assistant. Two days ago, the Ladies were tested on their general intelligence and knowledge. Yesterday, the Ladies were tested once again, but on more specific subjects, such as the arts and sciences. Today is a day of relaxation.”

“Will I meet Dina?”

Dorothea offered me her hand. “If that is what you wish, my Lady. Would you care to get dressed?”

Dorothea quickly helped me into a green, long-sleeved shirt, brown pants, and some simple shoes. As I looked in the mirror, I saw that I was indeed me-- none of Rill’s curling hair, longer fingers, or green eyes. This was my body again, though I wondered for how long.

We left the room and she led me down the hallway, down a few staircases to an underground room with a light blue wooden door. It seemed as if not that many people came down here-- I hadn’t even seen the door at first, and it was so out of the way. She knocked six times, in pairs.

“One moment!” A wavering voice called through the door. I could hear the scrape of a chair being pushed back, footsteps, and then the door was open.

He looked me over with a skittish smile. His eyes widened noticeably as he cleared his throat. “Ah, Jordan, right? Pleasure to meet you.”

_ Pleasure to meet you too, Eudoxia. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this got posted a day late-- I was rather busy yesterday :) Also we're now about halfway through the story according to my Google doc so yay!


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm afraid this chapter is a bit short, but next week's is gonna be pretty exciting ;3c

It was Eudoxia’s alter-- the one who lived in this universe. The same purple skin, yellow eyes, and curly black hair. He seemed much older and more subdued, though, than the energetic and cheery individual I’d met. A pair of spectacles sat atop Dina’s nose, and though he seemed young his hands were wrinkled and his eyes laden with bags. Perhaps I hadn’t noticed it during my meetings with Eudoxia, or perhaps this was part of the physical transformations.

He offered me a hand. I shook it and met his eyes. He knew me. He remembered everything, just as I did. I squeezed his hand.

Dina turned to Dorothea behind us. “You may leave, Dorothea.”

She curtseyed and left. Dina waved me inside. It was a copy of the room I usually met Eudoxia in, save for the table and chairs in the middle of the room, the larger bookshelves, and additional decorations. My eyes were drawn to a large painting on the left wall-- it portrayed the depths of a dark forest, with a little creek and puddles reflecting the light of a distant sun.

“What can I do for you, my Lady?”

“Oh, I just meant to meet you. Dorothea was telling me what the others have been up to-- I’ve been ill the last few days.”

Dina’s eyes scanned the room, as if examining it for the first time. “Ah, yes, I heard. Are you feeling better, my Lady?”

“I’m in perfect health. I do wonder how sick I was to begin wi--”

Dina’s hands gripped my shoulders. He was tense as he stared at me. He didn’t say anything, but his message was clear.  _ Don’t say it. Don’t say that. It isn’t safe. _

Mr. Argyle must be listening.

Dina cleared his throat and wandered back to his desk. He shuffled through some papers, back turned to me as he spoke.

“Is your room to your suiting, my Lady? I attend to the running of this estate and its decor.”

I started moving closer to him. “Yes, Dina, thank you. I do wish I had some way to repay you-- it’s such a lovely room, and filled with such beautiful clothes. It was a bit of a shock, at first, for someone like me.”

He handed me a paper. It was a curling scrawl, in black ink.  _ Althea, Olivia, and Natalie are dead. _

I took a pen from him.  _ How many others are left? _

He held his chin a moment before replying.  _ Eight, if you count Janine. _

_ Janine’s alive? _

Dina clenched his teeth in some approximation of a very anxious smile. He pushed back his hair, fingers curling and eyes bulging. He stiffened and brought his hands to his sides.

“Well, if that’s all, I’ll bid you good day, my Lady. Do feel free to visit if ever you need assistance with your lodgings, but I’m afraid I’m currently a bit busy. Goodbye!” He motioned me towards the door, and before I could get a word in he shut it with a solid slam. 

Dread sat in my stomach, a ball that couldn’t be ignored. My acorn was gone, Althea was dead, and Dina couldn’t be of any help. I could try and go back in as Rill, tell him to change into Eudoxia. We had time, surely.

I closed my eyes and....

Nothing.

No memories came flooding forth. No twinge of Rill. I tried to imagine the farm, and yes I could see the memories of Rill that I had seen beforehand, I could see the fields, the mountains, but it was impossible to call upon anything new. They weren’t there. I searched my mind, trying to feel them, find them, but....

Nothing.

I breathed heavily against the wall. A twinge of pain as a headache set in, but nothing else. No Rill.

Rill was gone.  _ Rill is dead. _


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi yall! sorry i posted late today-- I was traveling about so my Wifi was all shoddy. Anyway, here's this week's chapter! :3

I was alone. Mr. Argyle did something. He banished them from my mind. No, he killed them, he must have. The thoughts bounced around in my head while I made my way back to my room.

“ _ Jordan! _ ”

I didn’t look up in time to see Cara barrel into me, nearly knocking the wind from my lungs. She swung me around and around, holding me close in the hallway outside my door. I took a deep breath-- I didn’t know if I wanted to laugh or cry. She smelled like lemongrass and clover. Somehow, stuck inside this house, she still smelled of the outside world. She smelled of a place I’d never see again.

“Cara.” My voice cracked. 

Cara put me down and stepped back to look at me. One of her hands brushed across my cheek.

“Where’ve you been? It’s been days, Jordan. You stopped talking to me, and then you just disappeared-- I-I thought you’d  _ died _ .” Her voice dropped to a whisper.

“They say I was sick. That I’ve been asleep for four days. I don’t remember any of it.”

“Four days? What did they do to you?”

“I don’t know.”

“Jordan....” She trailed off. I could see her eyes tearing up.

“Jordan, everyone’s disappearing. There aren’t any ‘replacements’, like when Harriette disappeared and the younger Tabitha showed up. They’re just gone the next day without a word. Nobody’s died at the last two dinners, but I doubt this break will last long.”

“Do you still have your acorn? Are you still remembering?”

Cara nodded, eyes drifting down to a pocket. She led me down to my door and we ducked inside the room. The door clicked shut behind us.

“They took my acorn. We need to split it again.”

We sat down on the floor, and Cara dug out the acorn. I smashed it under my shoe, and slipped a sliver under my foot. Cara did the same, and scooped up the remainder. She washed them down the bathtub’s drain and came back into the bedroom.

“Do you remember dinner, before I disappeared? What happened, after Althea was killed?”

Her eyes darkened. She slowly cocked her head to the side. Her voice was flat. “Althea was killed at dinner?”

“I- what? Yes. You had the acorn, how do you not remember? Mr-  _ he _ came in and he murdered her, and he did  _ something  _ to me, something that put me in a deep sleep for four days. Cara, you were there!” I could hear my voice becoming more agitated.

She heavily shook her head. “No, he wasn’t there. Dinner was normal, and then we were taken upstairs to bed. I didn’t see you when that happened, but I thought you were fine.”

“Cara, he was  _ there _ . I  _ saw _ him.”

She offered me a handkerchief. I dabbed at my face. I trembled in front of her. I shook in front of the truth, that our acorns didn’t always work.

“If he’d known, he would’ve taken yours, too. Maybe....”

I started pacing around the room. My fingers danced over each other as I tried to wrap my head around all the little details that didn’t line up. How could I even understand all the nuances of memory manipulation and a being like Mr. Argyle?

“Maybe it wasn’t memory manipulation, Cara. Maybe he hid us-- made us invisible and soundless in the room, disguised what was happening, perhaps. Maybe he took me and Althea to an exact copy of the dining room.”

“An exact copy? Why would he--”

“ _ I don’t know! To fuck with us! He’s an all-powerful being that toys around with us before eating us. How am I supposed to understand him? How am I supposed to stop him? How am I supposed to do all of this? _ ”

I dropped to my knees. The handkerchief slipped from my grasp. I clutched at my face, tried to cover my eyes. I couldn’t see her, and my ears heard only the rushing of my blood, but I could feel her kneeling in front of me.

“ _You don’t have to do anything._ ” It was her, speaking slowly and deliberately. The words steadily passed through the fog.

“ _ You just have to tell me. Tell me what’s going on. Tell me what you’ve learned, and I can help you. _ ”

It almost felt like Rill had taken over-- not really, but almost. I didn’t realize I was speaking till the words came tumbling out and I heard them for myself. 

“He eats us. He’s from outside this world, outside all the worlds. He can’t be stopped. Althea tried to stop him.”

“She used a knife. You’re smarter than her, aren’t you?”

I felt bad insulting Althea, but tried to smile for Cara’s sake. She was trying. She always tried.

“How could we kill him?”

“Poison?”

“Other than us, I’ve never seen him eat. He drinks wine, but it just....appears. We wouldn’t be able to get to it beforehand.”

“Does he have any weaknesses you know of? Anything, at all?”

I wracked my brain and threw my hands up in frustration. “A love for dancing? I don’t know.” A dark realization passed over me. “He’s probably listening to us.”

“Listening to us?”

I bit my lip. I couldn’t. I trusted her, I did, but some part of me urged the other part to say nothing. I tried to rationalize it with the fact that Mr. Argyle might be listening-- reading?-- but maybe I never would have told her about Eudoxia and Dina. I couldn’t betray the trust Eudoxia put in me, couldn’t put Dina in danger.

“I don’t know. He could be. He could do anything-- this is his estate, after all. He knows this house much better than we ever could.”

I glanced at the clock. Dorothea would be back soon. “You need to leave. Dorothea’s coming back. It’s nearly dinnertime.”

I stood to open the door for Cara, but she grabbed my hand. She examined my face. Something changed in the way she looked at me-- I couldn’t quite place it, but her face hardened. She bent closer and hurriedly whispered in my ear.

“After dinner, find me. We can try and find a door to the outside-- I think I found that entrance hall we came through the first day. We’ll break that door down if we have to.”

She left, as if nothing had happened. I slumped against the door and closed my eyes. My fingers traced the small carvings. With my eyes shut, they were just little swirls and curls, a few straight lines and angles thrown in here and there. I focused on the texture till my heart wasn’t racing anymore. 


	21. Chapter 21

As Dorothea took us to dinner, it was easy to see how much our group had dwindled. There had been thirty of us in the carriages, if I recall, and thirteen of us on that lawn before we walked inside. Eight of us remained now, in the less than a week we’d spent here-- was it really such a short period of time? This house felt eternal. I half-imagined that, in reality, time was stretching on and on, and that he’d been playing with us for much longer.

As always, we were on time. It was 5:54 when we went downstairs, only a few more moments till we went inside, and then it was six o’clock. The clocks screamed and whispered, a constant. I couldn’t help but notice the growing number of empty seats. The doors were flung open.

I locked eyes with Cara for the briefest of instants before my focus shifted back to Mr. Argyle. His shoes were louder than the clocks as he made his way to the head of the table. It was impossible to make out his face, to see what lay underneath the blurred facade.

He stopped, next to me, behind Billy

He grabbed her by one of her thick arms.

He lifted her into the air, as if she were weightless.

He bit into her exposed neck.

Billy twitched. Her blood dripped down Mr. Argyle’s jaws, onto his lovely suit.

She went limp and lifeless.

I kept silent. My toes curled around the acorn. Billy dropped to the floor, forgotten next to me. Mr. Argyle stepped behind my chair. He leaned down while I stared ahead.

“How are you this evening, Lady Jordan?”

I feigned the tranquility of the others at the table. It was hard to smile. “I feel good today, Mister.”

“Ah, always pleasant to hear.” Blood dripped onto my shoulder.

He continued down the table and took his seat. The tension in my shoulders was killing me. He lifted a glass of deep red wine to his nose, and deeply inhaled the scent.

He raised it into the air. He said the same speech I couldn’t quite remember-- something about our successes and our youth, just as with all the nights before. Instead of lowering his glass, however, he kept it in the air and spoke anew-- words I could remember.

“To those who remain. May you be just as unintelligent as your predecessors, and may you be just as rich.”

Rich? We were a bunch of poor-

Oh. I glanced at the fatty meats on the table. 

I see.

Mr. Argyle-- I couldn’t see his eyes, but I felt his gaze on me as I filled my plate with food. I wondered what expression he was wearing. I wished I could see him, but the thought soon passed-- what if his face could drive me to insanity? What if it was the stuff of nightmares? I wouldn’t put it past him. His face was indescribable for a reason.

“Obedience” he spoke, still looking at me. “Do you know why you aren’t dead?”

“No, Mister” came Obedience’s sweet little voice.

“Our honored guest has been deciding the order of those to go. Miss Janine White is why you are still here, Obedience. You should be thankful that she has a soft spot for youths.”

Obedience bowed her head. “I thank Lady Janine for her choice.”

“Normally, I would allow you to thank Janine directly, but I am afraid she would only incite more rebellious actions among this group. The poor girl can’t control her chaos.” He chuckled.

Mr. Argyle fell silent. His head turned towards Cara in a split second, words quick, as if to catch her off-guard.

“Cara, what do you know about the Etumi dumu?”

“Nothing, Mister.” I internally praised her cool voice and perfect smile.

“As I suspected. Does anyone here know of them?”

_ Etumi dumu.... Etumi dumu?  _ The words didn’t ring any bells in my mind, nor did it sound like any language I knew. Maybe the pamphlet would have something on them, or perhaps I could find a book in the library after dinner. My mind drifted to Althea in the library. What had she been looking for?

Watching our silence, Mr. Argyle settled back in his chair. He waved a hand.

“You may eat.”

The food was....rich. A medium-rare steak, fried rice, warm bread, and spaghetti with a thick cream sauce. I watched Obedience dig into a plate of pork belly. I had to stop my nose from wrinkling-- pork wasn’t really my thing. Grandma Chava never kept it in the house, though she wasn’t there long enough to teach me why.

The main meal ended, and soon Dorothea was wheeling in the cart laden with desserts. Sundaes and jellies, candies and cookies. Somehow I still wanted more food, even after eating that heavy meal. Maybe the food was enchanted. Before I could serve myself, Mr. Argyle spoke, bringing everyone to a halt.

“Tova. Esther. Why are you here?”

Tova spoke first. “To seek money, Mister. I want to help my family.”

Esther piped up once Tova was done. “As do I, Mister. My uncle and I need money to move far away.”

“Your uncle?”

“He offended a lord.”

Mr. Argyle shifted his attention back to Tova. “Tova, how would you help your family?”

“My parents spent most of their money on my education. They don’t have enough money to continue sending me to school, even though they live in poverty and spend nearly everything on me. I want to help.” 

I was surprised to see Tova frown, as if resisting the happiness caused by Mr. Argyle’s....magic? Was that what it was? Tova’s face creased as she thought more, remembered more.

She stopped. She smiled silently, peaceful.

“Why did you bring little Obedience here, Tova?”

“She’s my adoptive sister. She needs me.”

“No. To ‘need’ another is a lie. You’re careless, Tova, you’re irresponsible. You brought a small child here, to her death. Shouldn’t you be responsible for her well-being, as her older sister?”

Tova didn’t react. I saw Cara twitch.

Mr. Argyle sipped at his wine. “Eat your ice cream, Tova. Know that your little sister will die at your own hand, fattened for my feast.”

We were allowed to eat once more, though I could barely stomach the thought. Cara’s plate was similarly empty-- a few half-eaten cookies, to give the impression of the spell’s hunger. I forced myself to dig into a bowl of strawberry sorbet. Normally I would enjoy it, but I hated every spoonful in that moment.

After dessert was finally done, Mr. Argyle stood. He pulled on a pair of white gloves, those same white gloves from six-- was it six? However many-- days beforehand. I thought he would go for Obedience, as he did before, but instead he was at my chair, tilting my head upwards. I still couldn’t see his  _ damn face _ , yet he saw mine, studied my features. I tried to keep my smile and absent eyes.

“Do make sure to eat more tomorrow, Jordan. You appear so terribly thin.”

Mr. Argyle was gone. We rose, and Dorothea led us out, to our rooms in only an instant. I was less motion sick than last time, thankfully.

“It is currently 9:16, my Lady. Would you like to change into your nighttime clothes?”

I allowed Dorothea to help me out of my dress, into the bath, and into a nightgown. I felt so fatigued. Once she left, I cracked open the locket, blew on the pamphlet’s spine till it was a normal size. In the index, the listing of  _ Summoning of Alternates  _ drew me in. The pages Rill couldn’t read.  _ Rill _ .

I flipped to the page, emerald ink shimmering as always.

_ The summoning of “alternates”, or versions of one’s self from other instances of reality, is a common practice among most species. With the ----, however, alternates do not exist: Each ---- is an entirely unique individual. This may be because the ---- are born in their homeland. This “world” may not be able to properly connect with universes, or, if the Artificial Creation theory (SEE “HOMELAND”) holds true, was simply built to be separate from the rest of the multiverse. Either way, ---- do not hold the one ability that every other known species holds. _

_ With the average species, an individual calls upon an alternate by entering a brief meditative state. In this state, they attempt to envision scenes from the life of an alternate, alongside this alternate’s personality, appearance, skills, and any other details that may prove important to the individual, whom we shall now refer to as α. _

_ Due to the infinite nature of the multiverse, any alternate α imagines must already exist. It is less that α has created this alter, whom we shall now refer to as β, and more that α has brought attention to β’s otherwise insignificant existence. α then invites β into their body. α’s body now has β’s mind, skills, and knowledge. _

_ A few important notes about this process are to be made: Firstly, during the period where β’s mind is inhabiting α’s body, α does not inhabit β’s body. Instead, α lives inside their memories, which are still inside α’s body. In some cases, α’s mind may inhabit β’s body, but this is usually done with β’s consent in the case of long-term use of alternates. α’s mind could attempt to force their way into β’s body, but doing so is considered taboo. _

_ A second important note to make: The process of summoning an alternate and giving it control of one’s body is not without dangers and consequences. β could decide it likes α’s life and force α’s mind into β’s body, or into α’s memories, permanently. Also, the longer β’s mind inhabits α’s body, the more α’s body will reflect this. It will still be α’s body at its core, but will begin to change, and eventually will look like β. This can be reversed by having α’s mind inhabit the body for periods of time. With repeated use, the need for α’s mind to return will become less and less, and β may find themselves in a body that permanently looks like α after years of inhabitation. _

_ A final note: The process of summoning and using an alternate is considered, among most species, to be a sacred contract. The bond between α and β is one that surpasses time, space, and reality. By attempting to trick one’s alternate, one is attempting to undo what is older than their universe, and break this bond. Going against one’s alternate is taboo. _

The words ended there. Underneath the passage was a small illustration of a vague humanoid, draw only in shades of deep violet ink, reaching to touch the hand of a figure the same shade as the words. Their hands moved through each other’s, as if the other were not there. 

How appropriate. I felt....mixed. My emotions towards Rill were complicated. They took my body, they took control of my life, tried to interfere when they were meant to help me-- they betrayed my trust. 

And now they were gone. 

I took a deep breath and shut the pamphlet, made it small and placed it inside the locket. Locket secure and slippers on, I went out and to the library. There was something unrelenting at the back at my mind. At first it had lingered, a solitary thought I had brushed away, but it felt like it had some meaning. The answer had to mean something.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> At the rate this is going, I expect that Part 1 will be fully posted by mid-summer, if not earlier. I'm hard at work on Part 2 (7.7k in!) and I'm so excited to show what'll happen :3c


	22. Chapter 22

The tube was a bit hard to open, just as before, and just as before it hissed with steam. Information Body Daled’s eyes fluttered open with a quick touch to their wrist. They looked no different-- I wondered if they aged in there.

“Hello. How may I help you? I am well-versed in Physics, Astronomy, Interior Decorating, and Chemistry. I may also serve as a basic guide.”

“Information Body Daled, did Lady Althea have you find any books for her?”

“Yes. I can fetch Lady Althea’s recently-browsed books if you desire.”

“Yes, and bring them to my table.”

Daled walked off-- rushed? It was a walk with determination-- as I took a seat at one of the tables downstairs. I genuinely didn’t know what to expect of the books Daled would bring me. Was Althea looking at fighting techniques? Books on knives?

I admired the library’s decorations. Last time I’d been here, the ceiling....  _ The ceiling. _ My eyes steadily drifted upwards, cautious. I’d seen horror, my eyes had gone purple. Rill had seen....nothing.

The ceiling wasn’t plain, that was definite, but it wasn’t the same. It showed scenes of an underwater city, a city of spires and domes and tubes. Most of the city was encapsulated by a giant glass hemisphere, creating an artificial environment at the bottom of the ocean. Outside of the city, clusters of buildings were linked with long glass tunnels, sectioned off with locking doors and systems that allowed people to go out into the ocean.

The city was alive and well, bustling with little people walking among the streets. The people were not like those that surrounded me in my day-to-day life, they were not a people I’d ever seen. Each had translucent skin, unrecognizable organs floating underneath, and a lack of hair. They spoke a garbled language, consonants and vowels slurring together. Somehow, despite it being a mural, I could almost hear their words as I read them. I think I recognized a marketplace, a worksite, a temple of sorts, but all were disfigured with technology I couldn’t recognize. 

The sound of a pile of books being laid down ripped my eyes away. It was Daled, carrying out their task. I rubbed at my eyes, and was relieved to find a lack of purple goo. I lifted a book off the top of the pile.

_ Windows in Reality: Creation, Destruction, and Calibration. _

Windows, windows,  _ windows _ , that word sure meant something. Windows! Portals to other worlds! The way Mr. Argyle and his kind peeped in on different universes, and sometimes crossed over. Althea had been trying to manipulate a portal-- make one, like Rill had been planning? Destroy one? 

The other books in the pile were similarly titled.  _ Traveling the Multiverse. Portals: Types, Uses, and Origins.  _ At the bottom of the pile was a thick volume, filled with diagrams of triangles.  _ English to Akkadian Dictionary _ .

Daled plopped down some more books. “May I be of any further service?”

I tried to recall what Althea had said. “No. Return to your tube.” 

I felt a bit bad being rude to them. Daled had perfect manners, while all the demands were....well, demands. I inspected the new books-  _ English to Hebrew Dictionary. Early Languages and their Origins. Linguistics and the Multiverse: Similarities Across Reality.  _ One needed to understand an “ancient” language to control a window, somehow it made the universes “link up”.

I heard a clock ticking distantly. I dropped the Hebrew dictionary.  _ Cara _ . She’d told me to meet her after dinner. I hurried to the door, hoping the books would still be there in the morning, if our escape wasn’t successful. As I left, I glanced up, and saw the ceiling had changed-- there were no images of translucent people. The ceiling was blank, save for a thin sheen of purple goo.

I soon reached her door, torn between pounding loudly and trying to remain stealthy and covert. I knocked, but there was no answer. No noise on the other side. I rushed over to my room, but she wasn’t awaiting me there either.  _ Fuck Cara, I’m sorry please be okay please don’t be gone. _ No, she wouldn’t leave without me.  _ She wouldn’t _ .

I tried to think back on our first day here, when we first entered. The entrance hall.... It had been a large area, with a ceiling high above me. Hadn’t it been just by the stairs? How was I barely remembering its location? We’d been here less than a week, and surely I would--

It was there, across from the bottom of the stairs. I stepped down, hand still on the banister. Something was off-- though I had come down this way nearly every day, I had forgotten that the entrance hall was there, hadn’t noticed it. Maybe it had disappeared, maybe Mr. Argyle had made us oblivious to its presence. But there it was, no one around. Just the way out, waiting.

I strode down the wide hallway, into deep shadows. I could faintly see the mural above, the same mural of a winged man and a child. It was less captivating in the dim light, unable to work its magic without all its splendor visible, though that could easily change if I examined it long enough. My footsteps were the only sound, so loud to me though I knew no one upstairs or in other parts of the house would hear.

The double doors stood large, imposing, built as if for a giant. And in front of them, an unaccompanied figure.  _ Cara _ .  _ Cara _ .

I rushed forwards and wrapped my hands around her. Cara didn’t react, except to reach her hand up and place it over mine. She calmly observed the door.

“We found it, we can leave” I murmured in her ear.

“No. It’s locked.”

“We can break it down, then. Go into the kitchen, find some sharp knives, and do something. Maybe we could pick the lock. Or we can break a window and climb out, if the door won’t work.”

“No. It’s impossible to leave.”

“Cara?”

Underneath my hand, resting so gently on her chest, her heart hammered. She squeezed my hand a little, as if reassuring me. It didn’t work.

“The windows have screens, a type that cannot be cut. This door, thicker than an aged oak, won’t open. The lock is impossible, and there are no other doors outside. I’ve tried it all, Jordan. I’ve done a lot while you’ve been sleeping.”

I took a step back, processing her words. “What about the solarium? We could break the glass in there, surely there’s no screens.”

Cara listened before moving jerkily. She shook me off as she took a few steps forwards, footing unstable and arms outstretched. Her body trembled. I reached a hand forward, but she slapped it away, and where my fingers had brushed hers I was covered in her sweat. Thick drops I hadn’t felt in the moments before.

“J-J-Jordan....” Her voice was a faint hiss, one that pushed through her teeth and barely left her mouth. 

“Cara? What the hell’s gotten into you?”

“H-” She cut herself off and brought a hand to her face. She slowly rubbed her cheek, as if deep in thought. I wished I could see her eyes in the gloom, catch onto her seemingly-disjointed thoughts.

“The solarium may work.” Voice cool. Confident. She exuded such an air as she strode past me, back to the main section of the house. I hurried to keep up.

“Cara? Are you okay?”

“Yeah. Let’s go.” 

We turned down the hallway, the one that led to the kitchen and, ultimately, the solarium. I ignored the swirling wallpaper as I tried to keep up with Cara-- save for the occasional glance back to make sure I was still behind her, she didn’t slow. The kitchen’s light called us forward, the room empty as we entered. That first night, everyone had seemed so happy to explore the house, to laze about and idly chat, but now I saw no one.

“A knife won’t do....” Cara muttered to herself, examining the knife block. She rubbed the blade of a long slicing knife before slipping it back into its place.

“We could get a big ladle, much more effective for bashing the glass out.” I held up a metal one as Cara walked over. She turned it around in her hands, before lifting her eyes to look at me.

“This could do. Do you see a pot?”

“Yeah, here.”

“Alright. Let’s go.” She trudged on to the solarium, barely paying me any heed.

It was dark in the room-- no sun shone through the glass, just a pale reflection offered by the moon. There was no table, nor any large clock, and the door didn’t disappear as we entered. It creaked a bit, wide open, though I felt no wind.

Cara hurled the pot at the glass. I shrieked, diving for the floor, as the pot simply bounced off the glass and back at us. It narrowly missed Cara, who approached the glass.

“Must be break-resistant. I suppose any other windows here are as well.” She swung the ladle at the glass, but no dent was left behind.

~~ “....perhaps there’s a balcony?” I spoke timidly, still a bit shaken by the pot. I eyed it in the corner as I rose. “We could make a rope out of some bedsheets, and climb down to the ground.” ~~

~~ “Where would you even go? There’s nothing around here.” She picked up the pot and headed for the door. ~~

~~ I grabbed her arm. “We don’t know that. He led us out into the wilderness after the carriage ride, yes, but then we were transported here. It all could’ve been an elaborate ruse, to lower our morale-- we could be a few miles outside Oxenvale at this very moment.” ~~

~~ She gave me the cold shoulder and went into the kitchen, replacing the pot and ladle.  _ What the fuck? Is she mad? She’s never been this mad before. _ ~~

~~ “There’s a balcony, off of my room. I’ve never gone onto it, but we could try.” ~~

~~ She was still. “A balcony?” ~~

~~ “Yes! We can try. We can always try something new, Cara. We’ll never be without hope. Don’t be angry.” ~~

~~ “Angry?” She turned, a wide smile on her face. “Jordan, I am anything but angry. Oh, Jordan, you’re absolutely brilliant. A  _ balcony _ ! It hadn’t occurred to me. Come, let’s go.” ~~

~~ I took a step back at her smile. It was twisted. Her teeth kept slipping over her lips, as if trying to bite herself. The action would turn her face into a grimace for a few moments at a time. ~~

~~ “Cara? Something’s wrong, isn’t it?” ~~

~~ “No, of course not. I’m swell. I’m--” ~~

~~ She slapped herself.  _ “Jordan, I need to--” _ ~~

I sighed, disheartened. I could feel a headache coming on. “I guess we can’t leave, not without defeating him.”

Cara gently took my hand as she helped me to my feet. She led me out into the hallway, up to my room. There, she still held my hands in hers, smiling down at them.

“This isn’t all on you, Jordan. You can rely on me.”

I could feel tears welling. “Thank you. I don’t know how to do this, but--” I fell quiet. I couldn’t, I couldn’t tell her about--

“But?” She gave me a sweet smile as she closed the gap between us. I sighed as she stroked my hair. “But what?”

“I can’t,” I breathed into her shoulder.

“Can’t? Why not?”

“It’s not mine to tell. If I said anything it could hurt others.”

“If this secret of yours is burdening you so terribly, you should tell someone, tell  _ me _ . I can lift that burden off you. I can give you relief.”

I moved away from her. I cast my eyes to the floor, to her delicate slippers. “No. I’m sorry.”

Cara stroked my cheek, still seeming pleased. “Okay. Take your time. But please, don’t feel alone. We both have the acorn, we both know what’s happening here. We’re in this together, Jordan.”

She gently kissed my forehead, almost maternal. “Sweet dreams, Jordan.”

“Sweet dreams, Cara.”

I smiled as she left.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if the strikethrough text isn't legible, I can post it in the comments! Also, I personally imagine it as time fastforwarding backwards to what came before the strikethrough text.


	23. Chapter 23

My dreams were heavy, tumultuous-- I didn’t used to dream so deeply, so vividly, let alone so often. In my dream that night, there was a disc made of solid light, upon which sat a man, writing away at his desk in an otherwise featureless void. He was bent over a little black book, fingers tapping up and down the spine in an archaic fashion, surely doing something though I knew not what. I wasn’t there in the dream, I was but a bodiless observer, yet he looked up as I approached. His face was somewhere between horribly familiar and unnaturally unfamiliar as he smiled. 

"Do your best. I'm tired of making these."

I couldn’t speak. I tried to nod my head, or whatever it was that I possessed. He seemed satisfied with my action as he turned back to his work. Pen met paper, emerald green ink flowing out, and he wrote quickly, as if his deadline were racing to meet him.

He released a loud breath and leaned back in his chair after finishing the page. He rubbed at his wrist and turned back to me, still beaming, before draping his arms over the back of his chair, head tipped up.

“I’m glad you’re here, kid. I can finally face him.” His fingers tapped on the wood of the chair, not in arcane patterns but instead with some music only he could hear. His fingers flew as he tapped, as if trying to dance the nervous energy out of himself.

“I know I’m gonna die. Tell him he’s a piece of shit, ‘kay?”

The man reached out for me, pulling me closer as if I were but a wisp in the air. Other than my sight and hearing, my senses were numb. His voice lowered, smile almost slipping off his face. This close, I could see the bags under his eyes. 

“He’ll try to explain himself. Don’t let the monster appeal-- be human. He killed me, kid. I was 26. I hope you grow to be older than me, and I hope you remember my name.”

I had no voice to carry my thoughts, yet I still screamed them in my mind. _Who are you? Where are you? What's your name?_

Maybe it was my imagination-- this was my dream, after all-- but he frowned, as if able to hear me. He tapped away at the table, eyes drifting to a stack of black pamphlets piled up on the desk. His voice sounded much smaller now as I, whatever I was, zoomed away. It really was only his little disc in that void-- it was the only light, the only _something_ , growing smaller and smaller with each imagined second.

"You've grown up so much. You know that?"

\----

I awoke to a pounding heart that refused to be silenced. It was morning, early enough that I had gotten up before Dorothea’s arrival. Only a trace of sunlight passed through my window. Had I a balcony, it would be so beautiful to sit outside and watch it rise, as the blues turn to pinks and reds and--

I pulled my attention away to the bathroom, sealed myself inside. The book was in my hands faster than I knew possible, already enlarged and index staring me in the face. There was no “About” section listed, and when I flipped to the back of the book, I saw nothing but blank pages. Under the title was space for a name, even linked with a “by”, yet the words evaded me, wriggling about as if letters could not contain them.

I turned to a blank page. The book had spoken once, to Rill yes, but it had spoken. It would speak again.

"Who wrote this book?"

....

"Who is the author?"

....

"Who is communicating through the book?"

The book continued to avoid my questions. To me, it was only a book. To an alternate self, it was so much more. I leaned my head back, eyes shut, and tried to call upon another version of myself, tried to imagine their life. Scenes flashed through my mind, as if waiting to be called upon.

First came the lighthouse, my favorite haunt as a child. It was so peaceful up there, my laughter echoing up and up. When I was older I would bring Tim around, tell him my wild stories of ghosts flying through the walls, causing the strange marks that old Joseph insisted were from his cat. I recognized the claw marks well enough, but Tim was gullible, and it was fun to see him believe.

The lighthouse left me long after I left it. The storm had been a harsh one, a front from out on the ocean that brought thunder and lightning crashing all around the lighthouse. All had crumbled that night, save for a few feet of the lighthouse’s base. A few of the “ghost” marks were still there, and it did seem much more haunted now that it was ruined.

A second scene overcame me, of a time in my sixteenth year. Dear Selene, my friend, the baker’s daughter. She had a stern look as she jokingly whacked me with a wooden spoon, reminding me to be on time for the Festival of Summer this year. Our longest day was upon us, and I had but one job, a job most important to our community-- to sing the sun away. Sing it praise, sing of its warmth in our hearths, sing of its role in growing our food, sing of its code and our compliance, sing of its demands and our sacrifices. I was to please the sun this year with my soft voice, a siren’s gift from generations ago.

I found myself humming a familiar shanty. I was not Jordan. I was Tam-- we were Tam. We picked up the book and gave a resounding huff when nothing happened. A thought crossed my mind and our mood lifted.

_I’m an alternate. I can speak freely to Dina-- or Eudoxia, I guess-- after breakfast. Dina must know who the author is. They know a lot about this pamphlet, after all._

I checked out the index again. We had time still 'til Dorothea was to arrive. Our fingers skipped on over to _Teleportation_.

_A trait shared among all members of the ---- is their knack for near-instantaneous travel, henceforth referred to as “teleportation”. By employing this skill, a member of the species may move anywhere in the span of 8.2 milliseconds. To the average individual, this may appear in two ways: either the being has suddenly disappeared from one position and appeared elsewhere, as when they are travelling faster than the speed of light, or the being is “flickering” all around the area it is moving within. This flickering can be described as seeing numerous versions of the creature all at once._

_There are a few limitations to this ability. Firstly, the species cannot move through solid objects or structures. There must be a possible path for the being to move through. Liquids, gases, and most other forms of matter are easy enough for travel, as the ---- can choose whichever speed it goes at, allowing for them to cross 10 feet in the same span of time it would take them to cross 10 astronomical units. Secondly, unless the ---- already possesses the ability to freely cross between universes, higher dimensions, and other variances in reality, this speed does not permit them such a power. It is possible that, due to their speed, a being could construct a window to another universe in those few milliseconds, thus making it seem as if they crossed over to somewhere else due to an innate ability._

_As with memory alteration, holding an organic object seems to lessen a figure’s flickering when one observes a ---- “teleporting”. The individual watching can pick out the true creature, rather than being confused by the flickering versions of them around the area. In addition, if one is able to achieve a speed similar to or faster than that at which the ---- is going at, one will be able to observe its actions._

Hm. That explained why he walked ‘round so oddly. Hey wait. You’re hearing this too, aren’t you? We’re both awake. That’s odd. I can feel you there. I know you’re listening. Say something.

"I'm Jordan."

"And I’m Tam. Aren’t you supposed to go sleep while I’m in charge?"

We smiled together. "Life's got other plans. Can you explain that, book? Is copiloting possible?"

....

"Book, do you wish to talk?

....

"Please? You talked to Rill."

....

We almost shut the book, but the ink changed, going at a slow crawl. We smiled and held the book up. The ink seemed nearly reluctant, taking so much time to carve out one symbol.

_?_

"Hi there. Are you a spirit, occupying the book> Or the author?"

_I'm not him. He's busy._

We cocked an eyebrow. "Wait, there's two of you in there?"

A bloat appeared, and was rubbed away by some unseen creature. Whoever it was, they wrote slowly.

_I'm his assistant. We're not in here. It's a book. We can write in it._

"Where are you two? Are there more of you?"

_A pocket dimension. Just me and ----._

We brushed a hand across the page, but the last word was a garbled mess of lines and shapes that didn't seem to connect.

"We can't read that word."

_It's his name. That's sad._

"What's your name?"

 _I change it a lot_. The "it" disappeared, letters shifting closer to read _I change a lot_.

Some dots connected in Jordan's mind. "What does the author look like? Are you guys in some sorta Nowhere land? We think we dreamed him last night."

_A pocket dimension. Describe him._

The dream.... "Someone familiar, but not? He had short dark hair, and dark eyes. If Jordan remembers right, he wore a white shirt with a vest. He was bent over some black books."

_Does                       ring any bells?_

_Sundance Kid_

_S nce Sund Ki Sun Kid suN Kid dance suinKD_

_unda Kid ance d daance Sun kid danc dance_

The book dropped.

Something burned behind our eyes. Our\--their br--thei--their breaths were shallow, pained. We hurt we hurt we hurt.

It was a while before we picked up the book. We were still reeling, brain both fogged and sharper than we could bear. The newest line was gone, replaced with something less cryptic. We squinted, eyes still blurred with tears of pain.

_We're saving all of you tonight. 9:30. 2nd floor hall, between the library and the viewing room._

"Should we bring everyone else? There's eight of us alive."

....

"Hello?"

The author's assistant was gone. Well that was odd.

_No shit, Tam._

Hey Jordan?

_Yeah?_

Who's Sundan-ddan kIDsu n dan kID

dan ce dance sunsu dan ce anCe

_FUCK_. I--we\--w--we fell to the floor, a tangle of limbs and phantom pain. Our face slammed into the wall. No one burned Jordan's skin but _fuck I can fell it Tam. Don't say it. I don't know what that is, but don't._ Ok, yeah I get it. We rubbed at our jaw, groaning a little.

_Don’t write it, don’t say it, don’t you dare to think it. I’m not entirely sure we should trust this ‘assistant’. Whatever that- that series of words is, it’s dangerous._

What other choice do we have? He said he'd rescue us. He said 'we'-- he's bringing the author! We could meet this mystery figure.

_Is that best, Tam?_

We were silent a long while. We watched the sky lighten outside.

Hey Jordan?

_Yeah?_

Didn't the author sound like that voice from your memory-dream? When you dreamt of the snow tunnels?

Jordan didn't reply.

Jordan, I think he's--

_Yeah, he did._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey yall! the spacing may be a bit weird on this one-- it's much easier to make lines line up w/ each other in a Google doc than in HTML. hope ya had fun reading this chap! :3


	24. Chapter 24

Breakfast was tame. Seven of us in the solarium, alone save for Dorothea. Cara, seeming quite chipper, sat on our left, pouring herself some fruit juice Tam didn't recognize-- _it's kiwi_ \-- and digging into a stack of pancakes drowned in maple syrup. Next to us was an absence. Not enough people to fill the table, let alone make it seem lively.

_Tam, drink the orange juice. Orange juice is good for us._

But it tastes terrible. I’ve never had an orange before. It’s hard going down. Can we opt for the apple juice instead?

_Yeah, fine. Next time, though-- my body, my rules._

We ate a big ol' plate of sausages, sliced tomatoes, and rye bread. Cara didn’t seem as if she wanted to talk much-- mostly she concentrated on her food and looked about outside at the greenery. Lost in her own thoughts, as were we.

Hey, Jordan?

_Yeah?_

Okay, I know I’m asking quite a lot of questions. Your world is really fascinating. But um, your seasons correspond to mine, yes? Our calendars are the same.

_That's right._

It's November?

_Late November. Actually, it may be December by now. It’s hard to say for certain, considering how time passes here._

So it should be cold. Wintry. You walked through frost to get here.

_That's right._

We looked at the scenery. The too-perfect pond. The bright green grass, neatly-trimmed in a way that made it still seem natural. A small _oh_ bounced around our mind. That’s not the outside, is it? Some illusion. Where are we, really?

_After the teleportation, I remember being in a field. It appeared as if we hadn’t moved from the field the clock had been in-- it was the same field, but with this house there._

Maybe this is a different universe. Or a different dimension? I’m not sure how these all work.

_Hopefully there’s a chapter on all of it in the pamphlet. I’m new to this too. I came from a small town that was on its way to becoming a city-- I’ve never dealt with any magical bullshit before this._

W dug our heel into the acorn again. It had become a comfort object at this point, a slight reassurance every time the situation seemed to sour. We startled a bit as the clock struck eleven times, that in-between grandfather clock that loved to disappear on us. A door appeared, and in walked Sir Ius, looking the same as last Jordan had seen him. Dorothea, Sir Ius, Mr. Argyle-- they never changed clothes, did they? They never seemed to age.

“As with the day before last, today shall be occupied with testing. You may follow me to the examination room.” Sir Ius watched us rise and led everyone out of the solarium.

He must've done something, changed the house's layout. When we were done with the solarium, it wasn't into the hallway that we emerged. It was a large room, with a domed ceiling high above, lit not by candles or windows but instead by a warm light that seemed to encompass all. Sir Ius directed us to each sit at a desk by ourselves.

“On each desk is a series of language tablets, a plain book, and a pen. Using only your own knowledge, transcribe the tablets in English.”

We flipped open the book, pen at the ready, and looked at the first tablet. It was a series of triangular shapes and lines, many of them interconnected. The second tablet was similar, but involved additional pictograms and more rounded shapes. There were another ten tablets-- a dozen in total-- with each being a seemingly different alphabet, a different language.

_Are you an expert in languages, by chance?_

Nope. I came from a small fishing town. I don’t know this.

_And I never actually went to school, so I'm not better off._

We glanced at the others. Tova was writing away between quick looks at a tablet of curvy letters that seemed to be written from right to left. A few others were following her lead-- Esther, Isabella, and even Obedience seemed confident as they worked away on similar tablets. We blankly shuffled between tablets.

_Tam, I have an idea. Do you think it’ll be possible for us to stay awake, piloting my body, if we add a third person?_

Another alternate?

_Yeah. Someone who knows these languages. We’ve got the expertise of a million different versions of us at our hands._

Okay. I’ll try. I’m not sure how, but we can try. You’re summoning them, so it’s probably more up to you.

By now it was a familiar sensation, the other lives at the edges of this reality. We took a deep breath, and plunged into memories.

A shining sun high above, rays scorching the infernal sands. My only relief was the shade of the city’s buildings, large domes and many-storied houses giving me the sweet relief I desired. I was a fool, to be about at noon. A damned fool with a deep desire.

The memory shifted, though not much. I was inside a building now, greeted by striped columns and twisting murals high above. When I was a little kid in the library, I would get too caught up in the designs to continue onwards to the books. I'd trace blue rivers with my eyes, try and find their endpoints on the ceiling. A hopeless task. I continued on.

My master greeted me. He was a wizened wizard, full of arcane secrets that he promised to teach me one day. But no, not yet-- my mind was not secure, my skills unable to rival the scholars. I was to learn everything else about the world, the physical world. Its cultures, its plants, its animals, its languages, architecture, natural laws-- sometimes my brain felt ready to pop like a grape squeezed tight. I knew it was necessary, though, so never was I one to complain.

_Welcome!_

Woah.

Hey, how are you? I'm Tam, that's Jordan.

I'm....Talib. You can call me Tal.

Tal, Tam-- pretty similar names, huh? Neat. We'll get along great!

_Tal, would you mind helping us out? We summoned you because we need to translate these tablets on the table._

Okay. You guys sit back, I need to concentrate.

The first tablet was easily recognizable as Sumerian. It seemed like a letter about the condition of a shipment of copper-- typical enough, I'd been trained on such old texts. The second and third tablets were both Hebrew, though in two different alphabets, one of them being a more ancient version. As with the Sumerian tablet, these were low-level government documents, rather than anything of religious or higher historical significance. A smile cracked over Jordan’s face at the relative ease of this assignment.

Sooo....who are you guys? Where are we? I don’t mean to pry, but are you gods, having summoned me for an otherworldly task?

_No._

We’re just people. In a different universe. I’m from a different universe than this universe-- this is Jordan’s universe, not mine. Jordan summoned you cause we really, really need these tablets to be translated.

Okay then. Am I sworn to secrecy? This seems like an interesting experience to tell the priests back home about. It might throw a wrench in our beliefs, though, considering a world like this was never described in our texts, let alone many.

_That’s....up to you. Maybe keep quiet if this might put you in danger, but we can’t stop you. You’ll be going home after this is done._

That’s fine by me. I would love to learn more, but perhaps now is not the best time.

I finished translating the tablets and set down my pen. A figure approached, bent over at the waist to peer at the blank notebook-- Sir Ius. He picked up the notebook and began studying it. Out of the corner of Jordan’s eye I spotted a girl-- Cara-- watching on. She flashed a nervous smile before returning to her own tablets.

“Interesting. Tell me, Jordan, what language is this that you’ve written your answers in? Arabic?”

_Fuck fuck fuck fuck._

What's Arabic?

Uh. This is the language I know. And write in. Are you guys not speaking it?

_I’m speaking English, I’m thinking in English! Tam, you’re an English-speaker, right?_

No! Danish! What the hell is English?

_Ah shit. Oh we’ve really messed up. Let me take over, okay? Don’t leave yet, Tal, we may still need you._

I cleared my throat. “....Arabic. Yeah, it’s Arabic.”

“I wasn’t aware that you knew Arabic.”

I offered a very, very anxious smile. “I have many talents...?” I trailed off, voice rising in pitch.

“Care to rewrite this in English?”

"Okay."

_That was close._

Yeah, jeez. I hope he believed you.

_As do I. Tal, you say the words to me, mentally, and I’ll write._

Okay.

My hand was cramping by the time we were done. I handed Sir Ius my notebook, now filled with pages of Arabic and English. I leaned back in the chair and rubbed my wrist. _Good job, guys._

Thanks.

I didn’t hear anything from Tam, but felt a general contentment. Sir Ius continued to eye me-- us-- as he collected the notebooks from the others. From what I’d seen out of the corner of my eye, most people had only been able to translate a handful of tablets, rather than all twelve. Did we do too well?

Too well?

_This could’ve been a trick. Maybe this was a deliberately impossible task, to single out a few people as “cheaters”._

Tal, Jordan isn’t supposed to be able to call on others for help. No one else in this room can do that.

Jordan, Tam, do you guys mind if I look through your memories? This is frankly quite disorienting. Your worlds seem to be very different from my own.

_Go ahead._

Yeah, sure.

It felt as if Tal had faded, but they were still there, still present. Tam was distant as well, more of a spectator than an active participant in my body. Dorothea collected the tablets and pens while Sir Ius spoke. I wished for a clock. I had no clue as to how much time had passed in the examination room.

“The examination is over. You may return to your rooms. Dinner will be at six, as always.”

I rose. There was now a door at the back of the room-- perhaps it had been there all along, perhaps it had been made to reappear. Either way, I followed the others and stepped through. We were now in the main hall, by the stairs to the second floor. 

I felt Cara’s hand on my shoulder. We walked upstairs as she talked in my ear, voice low.

“How did you do? I translated two, though I can’t be sure how well I did.”

"I...." _Should I lie?_

No. If she finds out it’s a lie she’ll be angry. Or sad. Not sure which-- you know her better than us. Besides, she was probably watching.

"I translated all of them."

She gave me a confused smile. "All twelve?"

I nodded. Cara burst out laughing.

“Wow, I didn’t know you were a master of languages! That’s great.”

“Yeah, it’s, uh, it’s a skill I rarely get to use.” We passed our rooms. “Where are we going?”

She shrugged. “Exploring? I have a question I want to answer.”

She led us down a darkened corridor. I recognized it as the way to the old rooms, the ones labeled with the names of people surely long-gone. Dozens of young girls, maybe hundreds. It nearly managed to creep me out.

“What’s your question?”

“Well, I’ve been wondering something about this house for a long time. There’s so many girls, all....”

She avoided saying the word. She continued, brushing her hands along the walls. The hallway felt narrow.

“I’ve never seen a repeated name. There was that girl, the Tabitha who arrived while we were here with the older Tabitha, but she never seemed to have a room. I’ve never found the same name twice in these halls."

"How often do you come up here?"

Cara was quiet. She seemed ghostly as she wiped the dust off a door labeled _Eliana_. The hallway seemed endless as we trudged on. Her voice bounced off the walls, though in reality it was rather quiet, as she replied: “Too often.”

“Hey, do you know what time it is? We’ll need to go back to the rooms eventually, before dinner.”

“It’s about two.”

Though I could still see, it seemed as if the hallway was growing darker with every few paces. Occasionally, one of us would stop to brush the dust off a door and reveal its past owner. _Laila. Dee. Fia. Maureen. Amber. Rasha._

Hey, Jordan? Tam?

I hadn’t even felt Tal’s return. I followed Cara mutely. _Yes? We're here._

I noticed something strange. Your memories, Jordan, seem to have numerous holes and inconsistencies.

_I know. It’s a result of the magic happening at this house-- they manipulate the memories of the girls here so they don’t know people are being murdered each day._

Oh, okay. I’m aware of that discovery, but I wasn’t sure if it extended to moments outside of meals.

Like what?

Well, if you'll examine this one--

A memory rose to the surface. It seemed so old, though it was only a week or so prior. It was me, in my room here at the estate, by the window. I was overlooking a balcony and watching the sun, while Dorothea tidied things up in the background and asked if I wanted anything to eat. It was the first day I’d been here. A distant beginning.

_Why is this odd?_

Something’s changed since then. Your room is different. I think this house is changing.

_What do you mean? I don't get it._

Jordan, you don’t have a balcony. Your balcony is gone, and you haven’t realized it. You still have that memory of the balcony, but some part of you is actively saying it was never there. Your memories of this house, of what’s happened, are being

                                                             manipulated 

                                                                                   as we speak.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey guys! sorry this took so long to post-- I've been in the car all day traveling and just got home. I hope y'all like Talib-- I just love scholar characters.


	25. Chapter 25

We ventured deeper into the shadowy regions of this mansion. With each moment we seemed more isolated from the rest of the house, squirreled away in our own little world of memorial doors. Though I sometimes lagged behind, Cara kept going, determined.

“Where are you taking us?”

“I want to find the end. The last-- or perhaps the first-- rooms.”

Tal’s words haunted me, though we’d dismissed them long ago, sent them back to their own life. It was just me and Tam, names of the deceased swimming around in our mind. _Sarah. Loraine. Deborah. Nancy. Christine._

“Mm. I don’t know if that’s possible.” I reached up to swipe the dust away from a door. R A With one hand I cleared the rest off and 

                                                               Fuck fuck _fuck_! Jordan, Jordan are you okay? Something's wrong, it's like

                                            before, it's

                                                              I know I know I know that I don't understand it's

                                                                                                                         The author?

 The author’s name? The pain. Wait. The door. Look. No way in hell I can't do thi  Just look!

My head fell back. Up up up my eyes scanned. Where there had been letters before, it was just a series of indescribable shapes. I couldn’t make out what was written, through no fault of the engraver.

_Ra....? A name beginning with Ra. Ra____. Rafael? Rahim? Do you remember anything else?_

No. Just those two letters. Strange. The letters themselves don’t hurt us. Just when they come together, form a specific word.

_Why is the author’s name in a hall full of dead girls?_

“Jordan? Are you feeling well?”

Cara was at my side, helping me to my feet. She placed the back of her hand against my forehead, feeling for a fever. I was sweaty and warm, but not with any disease. It was with a further step towards the mysteries of this house, of the black pamphlet, of Mr. Argyle.

“I’m okay. I’m feeling a bit under the weather-- I just need a nap, back in my room. We should go back.”

“Oh? Okay. I guess we can always explore more another day, or perhaps at night.”

“Yeah, sure. Might be a bit spooky, and hard to see, at night.”

Cara took my arm and we began our return trip. She laughed a little. “I don’t get spooked. There’s little to be afraid of down here-- just some old rooms, all empty. It’s only us.”

The light from the main hallway was already visible. Perhaps space was distorted down here, and the hallway only seemed long. Either way, I pulled us forwards, yearning for my bed. I really was fatigued. The hallway felt like it had taken hours.

“Here we are. Have a nice nap, Jordan.”

She squeezed me a little with her hug. My hands curled around her. She felt warm.

“Thank you. Any new plans, Cara? We haven’t talked much.”

"New plans? To leave?"

I nodded.

“No, not yet. It’s okay. We’ll survive. We’ll be alright.”

“How can you be so sure? How can you be so carefree and happy?”

Her eyes darkened. “Because I’m doing this for you.”

The moment passed, and she slipped out of my arms. With a quick wave she left. Deja vu filled the air, thick as smog-- always I felt unsatisfied when she left me at my door. I wasn’t sure why, what need wasn’t fulfilled, but....

You like her.

_What?_

You’re harboring feelings for her. I don’t think a murder house is the best place to fall in love with someone.

_I-- I’m not.... I’m not._

Okay. Ignore the signs, if you want. I’ll be here, watching, with my years of experience.

I snorted a little as the door closed behind me. _Sure, Tam._

What? People love my singing voice, and my actual form is pretty nice, if I may say so. I had a partner, Vanja, for a good two years. 

_What happened to them? Did you two split?_

Fishing accident.

_Oh._ The awkwardness was thick in our mind as I got into bed. The pillows fluffed up around me, though not in a way that impeded my nap. So should I leave now? Since you'll be sleeping?

_Yeah, go ahead. If I need you I’ll summon you._

I felt their departure immediately. Strange, after having two other people in my mind, I felt awfully alone. I pulled the covers higher and drifted into sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the chapter's a bit short this week, but the next few are a doozy so I thought I'd let you guys have some sweet stuff first ;3


	26. Chapter 26

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys get a chapter a day early, since I'll be busy moving back into my dorm tomorrow and getting ready for classes.

I awoke on Dorothea’s fourth knock at the door. Outside, where my balcony should have been, I could see that the sun was nearing the horizon. It cast a series of orange shadows around the less-illuminated parts of the room.

“Come in.” Dorothea entered, smiling as always.

“Good evening, my Lady. It is currently 4:40 P.M. Shall I bathe you in preparation for dinner?”

"Okay."

Afterwards, Dorothea helped me into a long green dress, with short sleeves and a white layer underneath that burgeoned out. It seemed much more old-fashioned than most of the dresses I’d previously worn, with quaint buttons on the front, white trim, and a ribbon around the waist. 

"Hey, Dorothea?"

"Yes, my Lady?"

“May I ask something personal?”

"Yes, my Lady."

“Where are you from? Where were you before this?”

Dorothea paused, smile plastered on her face. “I have always been in Mr. Argyle’s service, my Lady. To serve is my role in life.”

I suppose that made sense if she actually was an automaton. “Would you ever want to leave here?”

There was a longer pause, as if processing. “My place is here. It is 5:54 P.M., my Lady. Shall we head downstairs?”

As always, out into the hallway, in step with the others and their Dorotheas. Her copies disappeared before reappearing by the stairs. This house ran like clockwork.

“This way, please.” Down the stairs, down to the doors, down to dinner, to murder, to Mr. Argyle. The maid pushed the doors open.

I felt isolated, at my own empty corner of the table. The others were more compact, though empty spots were still speckled among them. I tried to work out who was next-- not Obedience, Mr. Argyle had confirmed she would be near the end. Perhaps Tabitha, or Esther. _Please not Cara, please not Cara, please not Cara...._

The clocks chiming, as always, was both a symphony and a cacophony. The doors opened, and Mr. Argyle was there. He stalked around the table, a familiar routine that still made me want to shake. He always looked so calm, hands behind his back, face unreadable, unseeable. 

I watched as he stopped behind Tabitha.

I watched as he grabbed her by her neck.

I watched as he hoisted her into the air.

I watched as he squeezed her neck before biting, plunging

                                                                                            sinking

                                                                                                         his teeth into her flesh.

I watched as the blood stained his clothes, his 

White gloves, all a deep red.

I watched as she remained motionless, as still as 

when he’d picked her up.

Mr. Argyle dropped Tabitha to the floor. Her face was blank, emotionless. She hadn’t seen it coming. She hadn’t known how close she was to death, that she’d been standing on the cliff’s edge. She had been reduced to a shell.

Mr. Argyle sat down at the head of the table. There were only five others now, six of us in total. A pitiful number of survivors, assuming the author was actually going to break us out after dinner. If not.... It was foolish to hope our numbers wouldn’t dwindle any further.

Mr. Argyle toasted, as always, the same words I couldn’t quite catch. As it ended, however, he spoke again-- maybe this was a new pattern, to have an individualized speech every night. I tried to keep my absent-minded smile while he raised his wine glass.

“To those who remain. May the undeserving falter, and may the deserving be met with their hard-earned fates.”

_What's he playing at?_

Mr. Argyle was uncharacteristically quiet as dinner proceeded. His behavior never seemed to make sense. During this time, when he usually taunted us with our future deaths at his hands, he now sat back and sipped at his glass of wine. Hm.

_Hey Tal?_

....Yes? Why am I here again?

_I wanna ask you something._ I picked at my ravioli, focusing on my internal conversation. _Do you know what an Etumi dumu is?_

Yeah, I’ve read about them. They’re a mythological humanoid-- well, usually humanoid. They can assume any shape. The name means “daughters of darkness”, as they usually appear as humanoid women.

_A late-teens girl with dark hair and green eyes, for example?_

I suppose that works. Their main tell is that an Etumi dumu herself does not cast a shadow, though they can manipulate shadows and travel via them. They also don’t need to eat food, though they may choose to. Most Etumi dumu undergo photosynthesis, similarly to plants. 

_Interesting._ I eyed Mr. Argyle as I chewed. He seemed absent, staring into his drink. Or, he seemed to be staring-- it was hard to tell, considering I couldn’t remember his facial features.

_Would an Etumi dumu have any hold over him?_

Probably not physically. If this Etumi dumu-- Janine?-- is controlling him somehow, it’s via a personal relationship or an obligation. Maybe a law? Perhaps he isn’t allowed to kill Etumi dumu.

_To think he’d be bound by laws._ I wanted to laugh at the notion. I opted to drink my grape juice instead.

Dinner turned into dessert, and our host remained silent. I never saw him refill his glass, yet he continued to sip, not looking at anyone as we dug into our various sweets. The room was painfully quiet, save for the noises of eating. Tal continued to analyze the situation.

If Mr. Argyle was the one who discovered Janine was an Etumi dumu, it’s possible he had an obligation to report it and spare her life. He did say he preferred humans after all, correct? He also referred to her as his “honored guest”. Maybe he has a nonaggression pact with other non-humans. 

_While it’s possible, I’m still doubtful._

Understandable. It’s difficult to trust him and his actions. I’d say try and find Janine, if she hasn’t left this house, and get her to grant you and Cara safety as well. Perhaps she’s in her old room, the one in the same hallway as your own.

_Or down the hallway of old rooms? Hidden away from the humans Mr. Argyle wants for himself?_

Oh I do like that idea.

The meal drew to its close as Mr. Argyle rose. He pulled on his white gloves, no longer stained with blood-- by now a signal that the meal had come to its end-- and walked over to Cara. She was calm as ever, steady as a rock under his scrutiny. He especially seemed keen in examining her eyes, pulling at the skin by its edges.

He said nothing. He was gone. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wowsers! We're approaching the end of Part 1. Part 2 isn't actually finished yet, though I'm hoping that posting the parts already written will motivate me to write more. Only about 26 pages left on my Google doc....


	27. Chapter 27

“It is currently 9:18, my Lady. Would you like to change into your nighttime clothes?”

“No, I’m good. This dress is nice.” I smoothed down the fabric. Somehow, the dress felt like a second skin, as strangely familiar as something from a long-forgotten dream. 

With a curtsy, Dorothea left. I waited a few minutes before I left the room, trying to remember the directions the author’s assistant had given me. _The hallway between the library and the viewing room._ I’d been there once before, the first night, during my initial explorations of the house.

My door shut with a soft click. My shoes were not as quiet, clacking a little if I moved too quickly. I went for stealth instead, and made my way down the hall, down to the author, down to the hope that made my heart flutter slightly. Before they’d left, Tal had wished me good luck. I knew I’d need it.

I stopped briefly at Cara’s door, with six soft knocks. I knocked louder, but was still given no answer. I continued onwards-- we’d come back for her, save her. She wouldn’t be left behind. No way in hell was that gonna happen.

I was there. It was a small area of the floor, between four hallways. I stood in the middle, whirling about. Over the way to the library, there was a wooden design, a few feet above anyone passing through. It was a wooden plank of sorts, with a swirling design that led to a circular cutout. I’d not noticed it before, but now it drew my eye. I stared, expectantly, as the minutes ticked by. _There. He’ll come through there._

“You’re right. He did.”

I whirled around. Eudoxia-- Dina? No, it was Dina, with that haggard expression-- leaned against the wall in the doorway opposite me. His face wore a sad smile.

“Dina?” Wait, I needed an alternate, I needed--

He held up a hand, as if sensing my thoughts. “It’s okay. You don’t need to fret about alternates anymore. Everything’s fine.”

“Are....are you the author?”

He gave me a small laugh. It seemed empty, without joy. “No, no. I was his assistant.”

“Was?”

“The author died over fifty years ago.”

“I don’t understand. You-- _you_ \-- said you were coming tonight, at this time.”

He glanced up at the design, at the small hole. I followed his gaze.

“We did come. Many years too early. That was part of his plan, though-- a plan he didn’t tell me. He was never going to rescue you. He knew he wasn’t going to survive.

“So he came through, and he confronted the Owl, and he lost. He didn’t care. It was his fate. He waited for you, and he gave you everything you needed. He would be so happy, to see the person you’ve become. He always talked about you, Jordan.”

“I’m not-- I-- wait. How did he know who I am? Why did he give me the book? I don’t understand, I really _don't_. Please, what’s going on? Who is he?” My head spinned. I felt sick, choking back tears though I didn’t know why.

Dina approached. He placed the back of his hand against my forehead. I felt sticky and hot. He began to pace.

“Let me tell you a story. Many years ago, there was a man in a very bad situation. He decided to write a series of pamphlets-- books, really-- about the multiverse, in order to help a long-lost relative. I soon became his assistant, bonded to him for life.”

Dina looked up. He wiped something from his eye.

“I was in love with the author, after spending millennia growing close to him. I knew he wasn’t in love with me, but I didn’t care. I wanted to help him in any way I could, to make him happy. So when he left to fight a monster, and died, I stayed there, in the monster’s employ, doing horrible things so I could one day help that relative.

“That man was....Rainer. The author of the books, your brother.”

I fell. I hurt I hurt I _hurt_. Dina kneeled down next to me, taking my hands away from my face. His form swam through my tears.

“You are a second child. You have an older br--”

I was screaming. I couldn’t see them, but the very flames of hell were licking at my body, trying to consume my flesh, searing me to the bone. _Stop.... Please!_ I couldn't manage to speak. I opened my mouth and shrieked.

He continued. “His name was Rainer. He was seven years older than you. When your--”

_"NO!"_

“Your mother’s name was Hes--"

_"STOP IT! STOP IT!"_

His grip on my wrist was tightening. My head hammered, a thousand little headaches, a thousand little nails being driven in. My head felt like it was splitting apart. “She took your memories away and sent you--”

_"PLEASE STOP!"_

“Your brother stayed behind. He had to protect your mother from--”

Something in me snapped. My head hit the floor. I imagined I could feel something under me, something wet and vaguely warm. It was a distant afterthought.

“His name was--”

There were loud footsteps. I could hear a clock chime somewhere. And then, I wasn’t there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> honestly, after I've posted everything to AO3 I'll probably go back n edit a lot of it, since I feel like scenes like this could've been handled well, but hoo boy we're in the thick of things


End file.
